Some Things are Permanent
by Josephine Sawyer
Summary: (Warning: Badly in need of rewrite.) When two sisters are separated by a trip to the Neverland, they find the differences between them too much to deal with. But who was really left behind?
1. Stories

Chapter 1: Stories  
  
~~ All children, except one, grow up. ~~  
  
  
  
Katie tried as hard as she could not to grow up, but she could not help noticing that she was getting taller, that instead of baseball mitts she was getting makeup for her birthday, that all her friends were pairing up. She looked at the world with angry eyes and longed for the carefree days of childhood. She hid herself in sports, in schoolwork, in anything other than thinking about the undeniable fact: She was growing up.  
  
Sue, on the other hand, was thrilled with the prospect of getting older. She stole her sister's makeup so she could attract boys older than her, and reveled in the intrigue and interest she found in matching others up. She had a full-fledged disdain for her sister, a sense that Katie was not what she was meant to be. After all, for a girl so pretty, to be ruining herself with sports and schoolwork, how very tragic! But there were other matters to attend to; after all, she was growing up.  
  
Of course, they had both heard of Peter, their grandmother was fond of telling them stories of the Neverland and the boy who never grew up, that she had heard growing up, stories that her mother had heard from Wendy, the originator of all such stories. Katie believed in him fervently, but was also absolutely sure he had come to an early end in the never land, a regrettable death that the Darling family would miss for ages. Sue thought the entire thing was a load of rubbish. After all, who wouldn't want to grow up?  
  
Katie and Sue lived on the other side of town from the old house where Peter used to come to hear stories. Their father had sold the house, although grandmother Margaret had wished him not to. After all, if he could afford a house in a nicer neighborhood, why stay in that little old house? So, despite grandmother Margaret's many complaints, they moved away, across to the other side of town.  
  
Katie and Sue often stayed at their grandmother's house on weekends. She loved the company, and Katie loved the stories. Katie would turn the lights out, and they would all sit together in the guest bedroom. "Do you remember the Neverland?" Katie would always ask.  
  
"I think I do," grandmother Margaret would say.  
  
"You do? What happened, what happened?" Katie would always reply. Sue, already imagining that she was too grown up for such silly stories, would sit by idly, rolling her eyes and sighing melodramatically at her grandmother's fanciful nonsense.  
  
And then there were thousands of stories to tell: fighting with the Indians, narrowly escaping being scalped, playing with the Mermaids in the lagoon; stories of the never-bird, the crocodile, and the other various wild animals that thrived on the Neverland. Stories of the little house, first built for Wendy, Katie and Sue's great-great-grandmother, or some such thing. Fairies had moved the little house into the trees, and Peter now resided there, according to grandmother Margaret.  
  
* * * * *  
  
And then there was the story of Wendy, the first girl to know Peter in person. Wendy's daughter, and her daughter had both followed in their mother's footsteps, but Katie had never seen Peter, nor had Sue. "What about mother?" Katie would ask. "Why hasn't she seen Peter, why doesn't she have such wonderful stories to tell?"  
  
"Peter forgot. He had quite a lot of adventures, and for her whole childhood he forgot, or perhaps he is grown up now, or died of a particularly dangerous adventure. But I believe he forgot."  
  
And Katie would sigh this time. "I do hope he remembers before I grow up."  
  
"What on earth are you talking about, Katie?" Sue would retort, listening now that she could berate her sister. She loved being angry with her sister. "You should know that this whole Peter Pan stuff is nonsense! Why won't you just grow up?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was after one of these nights, these wonderful, storied nights, when Katie and Sue were asleep, in adjacent sleeping bags on the floor of grandmother Margaret's apartment, when grandmother Margaret woke them up. She threw open the window, and there, in the distance, barely visible, was a little speck of black, a little silhouette, flying off into the night. Not a plane, it moved too fluidly for that. "It's just a bird!" Sue exclaimed. "What's the big deal?"  
  
"That's no bird. That's Peter. He looked in the nursery, and found it deserted." Margaret said. "I hope the stars don't know what's gone on."  
  
"Why? Why don't you want him to find us?" Katie nearly shrieked.  
  
"Whatever would your mother say? She would be heartbroken. And besides, you shouldn't be worried, you're much too old to go to the Neverland, you'll never learn to fly, dear," grandmother Margaret let out a little sigh. "I shall be the last girl to hear Peter's crow when I'm awake." The little shadow flew away, invisible, and grandmother Margaret smiled.  
  
Katie supposed she was right, and after all, there was nothing for her to do but go to bed now. Grandmother Margaret left the room, for her late- night television. She shut and locked the window carefully before leaving.  
  
The minute she left, Katie jumped out of bed, unlocking the window silently, and returning to bed as if nothing at all was amiss. If Peter Pan did find out where the Darlings were, she wanted him to find the window open. Sue grumbled in her sleep but didn't protest too loudly.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Peter had gone to the wrong house. He had remembered it was spring- cleaning time, and hurried to London and the nursery. He flew up to the window, and found it locked. Peering in, through the clear glass, he saw not children, but a puppy, a Newfoundland, with a kennel, and a water bowl, a cage, and two very large, white metal boxes which he was entirely unsure of the use for but he saw clothes on top of them, folded and clean. Nothing like the nursery, this wasn't a nursery at all. Peter turned from the locked window, and flew off to the stars, crying. His mother, Wendy, or was it Jane? Or Margaret? In any case, could she have forgotten about him?  
  
The little stars stopped him. He would have flown all the way back to the Never Land, would have forgotten about mothers in general, as after all, who needed a mother? But the little star yelled out to him as loud as it could yell, "Wait, Peter!"  
  
He turned to the star, the temptation to try and blow it out was usually strong, but for now he was more interested on why he should wait. "What is it?" he said. He had forgotten about crying, but knew he wanted to go back to the Neverland. He had probably been away for quite a while now.  
  
"I saw the Darlings, they moved. I can show you where they are now, see that apartment?"  
  
"Why, that's all the way on the other side of the town!"  
  
"Yes, Peter, it is."  
  
"Are you sure Wendy lives there?"  
  
"Margaret, Peter, Margaret. Wendy died a long while ago."  
  
"Wendy died? How awful! I must avenge her death!" Peter pulled out his knife and would have left to find Wendy's killer right then and there, had the little star not stopped him.  
  
"No, she died of old age, being a very old lady. Margaret is now a grandmother. She is quite grown up."  
  
"Then what do I want with her?" asked Peter, putting back his knife and turning around to go back to the Never Land.  
  
"She has two young grandchildren who know as many stories as Wendy did, if not more. And they can be your mothers."  
  
"Two mothers? But why do I need two mothers?"  
  
"Just go, Peter," the star said, amused with the conversation.  
  
In the apartment, in London, Katie had given up waiting awake for Peter, given up going to the never land, given up having great adventures or any such thing. Sue had not even thought of going to sleep, and was secretly reading a romance novel under her covers. The window was blown open, and Peter silently dropped in, followed by a new fairy, Xanthippe. She was a much more polite and well-bred fairy than Tinker Bell, Peter's first fairy, had been, but then again, she was also even more conceited, if that was possible. She wore a flowing spider-silk dress, colored blue and purple, woven and then cut in several places to make her look almost ghostly in her ethereal quality. One could say that she was a pretty fairy, but she was also continually flying about and few had ever seen her.  
  
Sue, being awake, immediately popped her head out from under the covers. Katie continued to sleep. "There's a boy in the room!" Sue yelped, not quite above a whisper, but audible to Peter. He turned around.  
  
"Hello, what's your name?" he asked.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she replied.  
  
"I'm Peter Pan," he said, confused. "Don't you know me?"  
  
"No, and I hardly want to. You can't be Peter Pan, Peter Pan doesn't exist, he's just a made up story that grandmum Margaret made up!" And with that, Sue huddled back beneath the covers, reading her book.  
  
Peter was quite surprised with this, and she seemed rather knowledgeable, but he had never been told he didn't exist before. "Are you quite sure?" he asked.  
  
She didn't even answer. "What are you hiding for?" he asked, louder. Still, no response was merited from the girl. This was the first time this had ever happened to Peter. He had always expected that his mother would welcome him back. But this girl was horrid. "I can teach you how to fly." It was his last try. It worked.  
  
"You can?" asked Sue. She hadn't quite seen him before, and he was rather charming, if a bit cocky-looking.  
  
"Of course! Now, just think happy thoughts, and they lift you up into the air!"  
  
Sue did, but nothing happened. She looked frustrated and angry. "You liar! You said you could teach me how to fly!" she burrowed back into her bed.  
  
"But wait, you just need the fairy dust! Zan, Zan where are you?" Xanthippe came at once to Peter's shoulder, but Sue was stubborn and would not come out. Peter let Zan float away a little, as all his efforts at retrieving his mother were failing. "You could tell the lost boys stories, and make pockets for us, and… and…" Peter started to cry, hopeless.  
  
Xanthippe felt very sorry for her little human, and floated over to the other sister. In his thrill at finding one of the sisters awake, Peter had quite forgotten Katie. Xanthippe floated down to eye level, and pinched Katie on the nose. Katie was awake at once. She heard Peter's sobs, and turned to look at him.  
  
Katie saw the boy crying, but at the foot of her sister's bed. A shudder passed through her, perhaps grandmother Margaret was right, and she was too old to go away to the never land. But she might as well try. "Boy?" she asked. "Why are you crying?"  
  
Peter, who had forgotten about her, quickly jumped to his feet, thrilled with the prospect. "What's your name?" he asked.  
  
"Katie," she started, then finished, "Katherine Jennifer Darling Wishcourt. But you can call me Katie."  
  
Peter smiled. "My name is Peter Pan."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I've come to get my mother, for spring cleaning."  
  
Katie grinned. "I know. I've been waiting for you."  
  
Sue sat bolt upright in bed, looked from an overjoyed Peter to an even happier Katie, and at once ran to try and find grandmother Margaret. "You can't go, you can't fly, because you're too old!" She yelled behind her.  
  
Peter looked horrified. "Are you a grown-up?" he asked.  
  
"I don't think so," replied Katie.  
  
Xanthippe flew over, and covered Katie with pixie dust, to show her preference of the sisters. Katie sneezed.  
  
Peter smiled. "Just think happy thoughts, and they'll lift you into the air!"  
  
Katie grinned and did as she was told. Soon, she was flying round and round in the air.  
  
Grandmother Margaret hurried into the room, led by Sue. "I told you! He's trying to kidnap her!"  
  
Peter, for a second, didn't recognize Margaret. But Margaret recognized Peter. "Peter… is that you?" she asked, almost trembling.  
  
He glared at the grown-up, and gnashed his teeth at her. Then he looked at Sue. Betrayal filled his eyes, and he screamed. "You're a grown- up too!"  
  
Sue looked scandalized. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"You're a grown-up! You're younger than she is, and you don't believe! You're a grown-up! She's my mother!" Katie came down to the floor, and saw the faces of her sister and her grandmother. Their faces matched, both looked at her with the air of someone who had been betrayed. Katie felt the need to explain herself.  
  
"He needs a mother so much," explained Katie.  
  
Grandmother Margaret sighed, a tear forming in her eye. "I know, I know so very well."  
  
"It's only for spring-cleaning," added Katie. Grandmother Margaret smiled. She had used the same rationalization for her own parents.  
  
Sue looked up at them. "But I'm the younger sister, why can't I go with you?"  
  
"You see, you'll never know how to fly," said Peter. Xanthippe, the fairy, was now hovering over the window, and Peter grabbed Katie's hand and flew into the night, Katie following. Grandmother Margaret ran to the window, watching them disappear, just as she had before, and her mother before her. This was right; this was as it should be. Grandmother Margaret smiled as tears fell down her face. They were hot tears, grieving for the child she once was, now dead and lost inside her. Her mother had once said that when Margaret had left with Peter, she felt as if a child inside her was screaming to be let out. Margaret didn't feel this. She knew that that would be the last time she saw Peter, and somehow it gave finality to her life, seeing her grandchild go off on adventures in the Neverland.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Sue collapsed to the floor, silently crying. She had no such pleasure seeing her sister fly away. That should be her, not Katie. Her tears were jealousy, anguish, and grief. Grief at the lost opportunity, her lost adventures. She pounded the floor with her fist. Grandmother Margaret tried to comfort her, but nothing would work. Sue cried all night long, swearing to herself that somehow, the next time Peter came, she would fly away with him. 


	2. Journey

Chapter 2: Journey  
  
~~Second to the right, and straight on 'till morning~~  
  
Katie was better at flying than Wendy had been, or even Jane or Margaret. When Peter had taken them to the Neverland, he had to always wait for them and would sometimes even abandon them for a short time, finding them again before they were too hopelessly lost. They would also continue kicking forever, no matter how much Peter told them that kicking helped nothing. Of course, Peter didn't remember any of this, but it is good to know that all the sports that Katie participated in had given her at least that advantage on her ancestors.  
  
Katie had stopped kicking long ago and could nearly keep up with Peter, going on adventures with him sometimes. Once, they nearly blew out a star, but it turned around just in time to see the children and start scolding them. They flew away, heading towards the Neverland. Peter thought this completely normal, as was his way, and was thrilled at what a fast learner she was, as he headed off in a presumably random direction. After all, Peter just did the first thing that came to his head.  
  
Katie, of course, knew that he was heading in a random direction, but she didn't ask questions. After all, he had been nice enough to teach her how to fly, and she didn't want to impose. The truth about the Neverland is that the only real way it is possible to reach it is if it is looking out for you, but Katie had no way of knowing this. However, the Neverland was unprepared at that moment, and was not looking for them. So they didn't find it.  
  
Katie's endurance was nearly as good as Peter's, although she did enjoy resting on strong winds and catching a few minutes of sleep before flying off again, to another adventure. But she could keep up with him on most of those adventures, and most of the time in between. As he had done with Margaret, and before with Jane, and before with Wendy, he would often play follow-the-leader, skimming the surface of the ocean and touching the top of each passing shark. Katie touched a few, but missed most of them. After all, she wasn't that experienced at flying. But on the whole, they had quite a good time, adventuring and joyous all the way to the Neverland. They did have so many adventures.  
  
Which one shall I tell you about? Although, there were so many more adventures in the Neverland than there were before they reached the Neverland that telling you about an adventure now would do those adventures disservice. To tell all of them would take much longer than I have time to afford. I suppose the one where they went about blowing out stars would be the best, as you already have heard of it.  
  
Blowing out stars was one of Peter's favorite pastimes. Sometimes, at night when the stars came out, he would lead Katie up into the sky, and they would creep up behind a star and blow it out. You had to be silent, and quite careful not to breathe, or else the star would hear you and you would have to start all over again. In this game, for once, Katie had the advantage over Peter, she was naturally a much more careful person, being a girl and older.  
  
"Now, you just creep up right behind them, and blow! They can't move, you see, they're quite stuck up here. All they can do is watch what happens down below, and speak in their little star-language. That's the twinkling, it's them talking. Only the younger ones will talk. The older ones are all too stubborn and set in their ways." Peter was describing how to blow out a star, and had gone off on a bit of a tangent. But Katie found it interesting and didn't stop him. "You see, they've all been up here for so long, that they've quite forgotten what it was for in the beginning!"  
  
Katie smiled, and they each chose a star to sneak up on.  
  
Slowly, carefully, Katie neared her star. Just a few more feet, a few more inches… almost there, ready, and—  
  
Just as she was about to blow, Peter came charging over. His star had caught him, and, wanting to tell Katie exactly what had happened, he caused Katie's star to turn around, and yell out in the star language several obscenities from the fright. After all, to see a young girl only a few inches away from your face after so long of watching from afar, is quite a surprise. A little disappointed, but on the whole quite happy, Peter and Katie returned to skimming the water, looking for sharks, on their way to the Neverland.  
  
Of course they had to spend time in the fairy court. After all, Xanthippe insisted upon it. The court of fairies was better mannered than the group of common fairies that Tinker Bell had tended to consort with. Peter and Katie received quite a reception, partly because he was Peter, but mainly because his fairy was Xanthippe and Xanthippe was a noble fairy. But despite their better manners, when Katie left the fairy court, her hair was knotted and tangled, and her nose was sore from the pinching. Peter was, of course, fine.  
  
Katie supposed that many of those fairies had secret, or not so secret crushes on Peter. She couldn't help but admit to herself that he was rather charming. But then she remembered the stories. Of course he's charming. He's been charming since great-great-grandmother Wendy knew him, and before that. He's been charming since he was born, I suppose. But did that mean anything? Katie was there for the adventures, not the fact that Peter was cute. That was a reason that Sue would use.  
  
If only there were a way to stop her, to tell her she should turn back now, that she would be sorely disappointed with her lot in the Neverland. For while for Wendy and Jane, sewing and pretending to be the mother of a large family was pleasant, Katie would certainly hate it. And yet, that was what she had signed up for. Had she not said she would be Peter's mother? What did she expect? Oh, the fickleness of childhood. One would think she would be smart enough, being older than Wendy had been, or Jane, or even Margaret. But our wishes are not granted. Katie has chosen to go confidently on, thinking that she will simply partake in even more adventures upon her arrival in the Neverland.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The Neverland knew Peter was trying to find it, and was hurriedly preparing for his return. It is a commonly known fact that the Neverland sunk into a stupor when Peter was gone, partly because he hated to miss out on any adventures, and partly because the entire island was simply so tired from all those adventures that it had to rest every chance that it got. Therefore, whenever Peter was coming back, the island figuratively shook itself and woke up, getting adventures ready for the boy.  
  
At that minute, the island was planning quite a large adventure. The Indians were on the warpath again, looking for scalps to decorate themselves with. Tiger Lily had gotten a grand total of 10 scalps since the time of Jas. Hook, an assortment of intruders and others. She always remained truthful to her bargain with Peter, that she would be his friend. This entailed not attacking the lost boys, no matter how tempting it was. Of course, some of the boys had died in fights since then, but those were merely friendly games, and there were no hard feelings. After all, as many Indians had died in those same squabbles.  
  
Before leaving, she had made sure that Starkey was, as always, kept busy minding the papooses, and although he was growing quite restless as of late, she had no doubt that he had forgotten all of his pirate-y ways and was stuck as a baby-sitter for the rest of his life. Besides, his sword was hanging on her teepee wall, and he most certainly could not get it without permission from the tribe.  
  
The lost boys were swimming in the lagoon, although none of them had the courage to swim deep and talk to the mermaids. It was a rather young group of lost boys, and a large one too. Ever since the fight with Hook, few lost boys had died by the Indians and none by the hand of a Pirate. None of the boys remembered Hook, as all of those lost boys had been found and adopted by Wendy, but the story of Peter's valiant defeat of the only man that the sea-cook had feared was a general favorite, and was passed down from boy to boy. It could be argued that the boys in general liked Cinderella better, but Peter insisted that Hook was their favorite, so they conceded. However, at that moment, the thought of Hook was far from their minds, perhaps unfortunately so. Because, as the island shook itself awake in preparation for Peter's return, a black dot appeared on the horizon. None of them recognized it, no one realized what it was; they all ignored it. After all, it was still a long way off.  
  
A cold wind blew over the Neverland, and the lost boys decided that perhaps they should retreat to the house in the trees, or hunt animals, do something that didn't involve getting wet. A few of them got out, and one spoke. This one was John, who came to the island soon after Wendy had left, and was consequently named after some John that Peter had remembered at the time. He was quite proud and considered himself a second-in-command to Peter, but in reality was nothing like the other boy, and had no chance of leadership. The lost boys were not allowed to choose seconds-in-command, Peter's rules. "Hey! I say we should go hunting or something! What do you say, Tobby?"  
  
"I agree, what do you say, Daisy?" asked Tobby, pulling one of the older boys out of the water. Poor Daisy had come to the Neverland thinking he had a name. Calling himself David, he quickly got the nickname Davey and that degenerated to Daisy. But now, all that forgotten, he answered only to the name Daisy. In fact, he was true to his name, with leaves and blossoms of strange flowering plants in his hair, even now.  
  
"I say hunting sound like jolly good fun! What do you say, Dows?"  
  
"I say I'd like to hunt, what do you say, Beetle?"  
  
"Okay, what do you think, John?" Beetle was the youngest, named for his tendency to curl up into a little ball like a small insect when he was frightened. He hadn't quite gotten his feet under him yet, and fell often enough to be a spectacle amongst the lost boys. Of course, with the furs that they wore, when they fell, they rolled.  
  
"Beetle, I've already answered," replied John. "Let's go, then. What shall we hunt today, Daisy?"  
  
"I dunno, what do you think, Tobby?"  
  
"I dunno, what do you think, Dows?"  
  
"I dunno, what do you think, Beetle?"  
  
"I dunno, whaddya think, John?"  
  
John sighed.  
  
They set off to hunt something, although no one knew quite what they would hunt.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Smee had spent years for this moment. He only had a vague memory of Peter Pan, but he knew that he had a friend and brother before Pan killed him. Now, the only man who James Hook feared, the Irish bo'sun, the man who killed without offense, was back for revenge on Pan. Revenge on Pan, and those foolish lost boys who had killed his compatriots. Tootles, Curly, Nibs, Slightly, and those Twins. It would be harder this time, because they had a mother. But he was the only man Hook had feared! Hook was the only man who the sea-cook had feared! What did he, Smee, have to fear from a little boy?  
  
Little did Smee, foolish Smee, know that all those lost boys had long since grown up, adopted by the Darlings and brought up by Wendy. They had long since died, of various commonplace diseases and other ailments. They had forgotten, stopped believing in his very existence, long before that. If Smee had known, he would probably have been marginally insulted that he did not leave any impression on a boy. But Smee didn't know. Nor did he know that the new group of lost boys, the group he was approaching now was completely different. What would he have done if he had found out? We will never know.  
  
* * * * *  
  
On the mainland, there was a knock at Katie's grandmother Margaret's door. She had grown weaker overnight, and her legs shook as she stumbled to the door, to open it. It was Katie's mother, Mrs. Wishcourt. Sue ran up to her mother, pushing Margaret aside. Margaret stumbled, grabbing the wall, before slowly progressing to the door. Sue was talking to her mother.  
  
"Mother, mother, Katie's ran away!"  
  
"Flew," corrected Margaret.  
  
"Flew? That's impossible," replied Mrs. Wishcourt. "No one can fly!"  
  
"Katie can," insisted grandmother Margaret  
  
"Is this another or your silly stories about Peter Pan and the Neverland?"  
  
"They're not silly stories. Katie flew away to the Neverland with Peter Pan."  
  
"If they're true, then why haven't I seen the boy? What happened to my trips to the Neverland?"  
  
"He forgot. Peter does have a terrible memory," sighed grandmother Margaret. She sounded quite fond of the fact that he tended to forget everything and anything.  
  
Mrs. Wishcourt's shock and anger was clear from her face. She could take no more of this nonsense. "What have you done with my daughter, mother? Where is she?"  
  
"She's in the Neverland, mother!" said Sue. Sue didn't know why her mother hadn't believed her grandmother. After all, it was true, wasn't it?  
  
Mrs. Wishcourt glared at her daughter, and looked almost ready to smack her. "You stop repeating those filthy lies! What have I brought you up for, if you just reject all common sense and take on these stupid stories?" Sue looked dejected. But then again, should she be, really? After all, she had a chance to show her sister that she would regret flying off like that and abandoning her little sister.  
  
"Susan is telling the truth. Katherine is in the Neverland, with Peter."  
  
"Mother, don't play with me. I know those stories aren't true. What happened to my daughter?"  
  
Grandmother Margaret sighed. "Why would I lie to you about something like that, dear? I don't just make such things up."  
  
"Yes you do, you have since I was a little girl! You've always been lying to me! I know about Peter Pan, you told me those same stories when I was a child. Stories, mother. That's all they are, stories. If you go around, polluting my children's brains with such arrant nonsense, expecting them to believe that, and then maintaining that my oldest daughter has run away to the Neverland, you do not know me."  
  
"I only tell you what I know. I saw Peter last night, and so did Sue."  
  
Sue glared at her grandmother. Now was her chance to make them all forget Katie, get revenge on the supreme injury of getting something that Sue could not have. It was her fault that Sue was not in the Neverland with Katie. Her and Katie's fault, and now Sue could get revenge on them both. She should be in the Neverland. After all, in hindsight, that Peter boy was rather cute. "You're lying."  
  
Grandmother Margaret could only stare at her granddaughter, shocked. They say that once you have been betrayed once you never feel the same way again, and for the most part this is true. Margaret had become used to treachery and deception in her life, but this was another matter. Right then, when she saw her grandchild stare at her with such hatred, and openly lie about her, she felt that pang of injury just as if it were the first. Her daughter was talking.  
  
"Mother, what really happened?"  
  
Margaret could do nothing. She felt her lungs constricting. Her legs weakened, and she thought she would fall to the floor. Her daughter caught her.  
  
"What really happened last night?"  
  
Margaret couldn't believe it. This was supposedly her daughter. This awful woman, who continued to ask about something that may or may not have happened last night when her mother was dying. "Get me to a hospital, damn it! I'm dying, can't you tell!" She yelled, at the top of her voice, but it only came out a whisper.  
  
Margaret lost consciousness as she was taken to the hospital in her daughter's car.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The window to the apartment remained open, ready for Katie when she should come home. After all, all the Darlings came home soon, didn't they? No one was alive who could remember precisely. But the window was open despite any of that, and now there was no one to close it. Katie would have a place to come back to, when she came back.  
  
The door was unlocked, open, waiting for friendly neighbors to politely close it, or for unfriendly neighbors to come in and do what they would. No one cared anymore. All those who would have cared were gone. The entry hall was alight, and there were no signs of anyone leaving, not even a hasty retreat to another part of town. In the kitchen, a kettle of water put to heat boiled, and whistled, wanting to be turned off. No one came. The milk and cereal were standing by for a breakfast to be put away, dirty dishes waiting to be washed.  
  
In the bedroom, where remained the open window, the drapes blew haphazardly in the breeze, and threatened to pull away from the room itself. Anything light enough to be lighted by the wind in the room was, and a torrent of papers flew around and around before settling temporarily to the floor, to the music of the shrieking teakettle. A fine, sparkling dust filtered through the air, settling on the floor to be sucked up by a vacuum cleaner, or picked up on a dust-rag. And one sleeping bag remained in the room, a navy-blue reminder of the girl who had left, a lonely bag, without its pink companion, and devoid of its customary human habitation. The noise got louder.  
  
The dust settled on the sleeping bag, and it floated like one of the papers, into the air, catching in the breeze. It whipped around the room, knocking over several objects before flying out the window and racing out, on the wind, to some other part of town, ripping the curtains with it and taking them away too. Several people on the street remarked on it, but then stopped paying any attention to it. Inside, the kettle continued to shriek.  
  
* * * * *  
  
No one knew how the fire started, but it burned down most of the building before it was finally quenched. There were some rumors of a stove left on, but who would be stupid enough to leave their stove on when they left the house? All the tenants could do was curse their luck and look for housing nearby. At least the building didn't fall down, that would have rendered a larger area uninhabitable.  
  
And remaining, in the burnt-out shell of the top floor where Grandmother Margaret used to live, was a gaping hole of what once was an open window, suitable to match the rest of the building, and a fine dust, left to be blown away in the breeze, mixed with ashes, and forgotten. 


	3. Expectations

** Chapter 3: Expectations **

_  
~~Good news, boys! I have brought, at last, a mother for you all. ~~ _

  
The Neverland was finally awake, and ready for Peter. The lost boys were all out hunting, having joined the Indians, and were having a rollicking good time. Knowing that, at last, it was ready for Peter, the Island began to search the boy out. 

Peter and Katie were enjoying themselves, having just found and killed a boatful of pirates on the high seas, and they were laughing and reliving the adventure. Xanthippe was, as always, flying on ahead and lighting the ocean surface for them. "Did you see the look on the poor captain's face when we landed?" Katie asked, laughing. 

Peter could only laugh and crow with joy, and he flew even faster than before. Katie put on a burst of speed to catch up to him, but was unable to for the first time. Peter quite forgot about his new friend and flew off, to the Neverland. Xanthippe, remembering the girl, stayed behind and led her to the island. 

Peter reached the Neverland, and found the lost boys, now at a huge feast with the Indians. He walked in on it, and nodded to Tiger Lily. "Hullo, Tiger Lily!" 

"Hullo, Peter Pan!" 

"Where are my lost boys?" 

"Over there," she pointed out the boys, happily munching the meat beneath poorly applied Indian face paint. 

"Boys, come here!" Peter yelled, with a very commanding tone. The boys quickly dropped the meat and approached Peter. 

"What is it?" asked John. 

"Good news, boys! I have brought, again, a mother for you all!" 

"A mother, a mother!" yelled Dows. 

"Wonderful! At last, a mother!" added Tobby. 

John only smiled, but foolish Beetle asked, "What's a mother?" 

"A mother is a lady, to darn clothes, and make pockets, and tell stories, and look after us all!" replied Peter. 

"What kind of stories?" 

"Oh, all kinds of stories, Beetle! Just wait and see!" 

And the lost boys began to frolic, just waiting to see their new mother. They ran around the campfire, quite disturbing the Indians, and finally were thrown out. Then they flew off to their home in the trees, and started running around there, until Peter stopped them. 

"Stop! We've got to make the house neat for our new mother! First impressions are very important, you know!" he shouted. At once, the boys set to work cleaning up the house and making it and themselves neat. Peter stood outside, making sure they were all working still. 

It was only then, that he realized he had forgotten the most important part, the mother. He flew off, leaving the lost boys to clean up and searching for their mother. 

* * * * * 

He came across Katie, flying behind Xanthippe, and just outside of the Neverland. Of course, he recognized Xanthippe, but not Katie. "Hullo, Zan! Who's that?" He asked. 

"Peter! It's me, Katie, don't you remember?" asked Katie in response, shocked. 

"Katie?" Peter was quite confused. Then he remembered. "Oh! I'm quite sorry about forgetting, just keep telling me who you are, and I'll get it eventually. C'mon then, Zan, Katie! We're almost to the Neverland!" 

When Katie reached the house in the trees, she was shocked at how well kept it looked. After all, when Peter tells the lost boys to clean, they clean. She entered, and saw the lost boys, and was charmed. She sat down on one of the little chairs, and looked around. 

"Are you a mother?" asked Beetle. 

Katie smiled, but blushed at the little boy's question. "I don't quite know, I don't know if I have what it takes to be a mother to so many," she replied. After all, there were quite a few boys, and in the small house it appeared an even larger number than there really were. 

"Oh, don't worry!" answered John. "We just want a nice, motherly-like person!" 

Katie wasn't sure if this was much better, but she knew enough to answer correctly. "Well then, I think I shall do quite well!" 

"Do you know stories?" asked Tobby. 

"Oh, lots!" replied Katie. 

"Like Cinderella?" 

Katie nodded. "Certainly. I know such lots of stories, my grandmother was always telling me stories." 

"Peter always tells us the beginning, but he can never remember the end! He always stops when the poor little girl is running out of the ball, and loses her glass slipper!" 

"Oh, well, I do believe we have just enough time for the end of Cinderella before it's time for bed," said Katie, noticing out of a window that the sun was indeed setting. "Let me just tell it to you, and then you can all have a good night's rest." After all, if she was a mother, wasn't this what mothers were supposed to do? She supposed it would be like babysitting, and she'd done that enough before. 

And so, she told the lost boys Cinderella, and they all loyally and dutifully went to bed and fell asleep, enamored of their new mother and quite pleased with the ending to the story. Peter was proud of his new mother, and soon fell asleep with the lost boys too. 

Now, Peter was prone to having horrible, awful nightmares, and always before, when there had been a mother in the house, she would comfort him and protect him from those dreams. That night, he had an especially awful one. Katie, who had fallen asleep in her little chair, awoke to see Peter trembling and crying in his sleep from the fear of the nightmare. She walked over to him, and reached out to touch him. She couldn't bear to see Peter crying out. 

Soon enough, he was cradled in her arms and comforted, just like he had been cradled in Wendy's arms, Jane's arms, and Margaret's arms. At that moment, Katie looked quite the little mother, in her little house with Peter and the lost boys. 

* * * * * 

__

Peter was flying around, high in the sky, amongst the stars, just like he always did. He was with Wendy, or Jane, or Margaret, or this new one, Katie. He couldn't really tell. Whoever he was with, she was flying about, blowing out stars. 

He had never been able to blow out stars, and whoever this was, was having no trouble at all. He tried, sneaking up behind the star, and one, two, three, blow! 

But the star woke up and turned around and started scolding him so loud that he was sure the rest of the world could hear. The girl, whoever it was, turned around, and saw him being scolded by the star, and started to laugh at him. 

In a wave of utter despondency, Peter lost his happy thought. 

It had always just been there before, but now it was gone. What had it been? Where did it go? What would happen? With that final thought, he fell. 

Peter didn't realize he was falling right then, he was too preoccupied with finding his happy thought. This couldn't be good. You aren't supposed to lose things like happy thoughts. But soon he realized that happy thoughts were more important than most other thoughts. Those happy thoughts were keeping him in the air. 

Now his search was frantic, but he was still falling. And old enemies, long forgotten and horribly real enemies came to mind, jeering at him and pointing and laughing. "Look at the boy who never grew up now!" they seemed to say. "Look at him now, the pathetic thing has lost his happy thought, he can't fly." 

And one face swarmed up against him larger than before, a face with black moustache and sinister eyes. The figure pulled at the moustache with his hand, only where his hand should have been, there was a hook instead. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Sneaking up behind a star and trying to blow it out, were we? Bad form, Peter, bad form!" 

Of course, Peter had no idea what form was, much less the ability to differentiate between good and bad form, but he could tell that whatever Hook was saying, it wasn't a good thing. He gulped, his happy thought farther from reach than ever, and he fell like a stone into oblivion. 

Then, through the darkness, and the falling, and the should-be-dead enemies, came hands. Hands that grabbed him by the arms and didn't let him fall, hands that supported him and saved him from this eternal torture. The faces died away, and his happy thought came back. Now it felt so natural he couldn't believe he had ever misplaced it. He was once again flying mid air, with that girl, saying funny things to the stars. 

At once, he forgot his fears. He had never fallen, never forgotten that thought. He had always been the boy who would never grow up, cocky, proud, but wonderful and superbly clever. 

* * * * * 

A dark shape entered the lagoon that night. A dark, brooding shape with a single green light hanging from the edge appeared. A horrible, deep chorus sang out, to all the island, 

_ Avast belay, yo-ho, heave to  
A-pirating we go  
And if we're parted by a shot  
We're sure to meet below!   
Yo ho, Yo ho, the pirate life  
The flag O' skull and bones!   
A merry hour, a hempen rope,   
And hey for Davy Jones!   
Avast belay, when I appear  
By fear they're overtook  
Naught's left upon the bones when you  
Have shaken claws with Hook.   
Yo ho, Yo ho, the frisky plank  
You walks along it so,   
Till it goes down and you goes down  
To Davy Jones below!   
Yo ho, Yo ho, the scratching cat,   
It's got nine tails, you know!   
And when they're writ upon your back, -- _

But no more of that, let it suffice to say that they were singing a horrible song. Smee stood at the prow of the pirate ship, the light of the lamp glinting on the waters. He had reached his destination. He was here, the Neverland. And soon, he would get revenge on those foolish little boys who dared to cross the one man who James Hook had feared. 

* * * * * 

"I'm sorry," said the doctor. "We did all we could to help her, but in the end there was nothing we could do." 

Sue gulped down the tears. Mrs. Wishcourt grimly nodded and shook hands with the doctor. 

The funeral was simple, they hadn't been religious people, but they needed support at this time. The entire family, save Katie, showed up at the reception and the burial, which was preformed in such a proper way that old Mr. Darling, had he been alive, would have been proud. And Sue put on a proper head of grieving, although she was really secretly jealous of her grandmother for having flown off to the Neverland when she was a child. 

But no one had to know that, right? Sue put on quite a good face of mourning and sadness, and everyone could tell that she was moved by the death of her grandmother. 

Not to say that she wasn't. I don't want to paint Sue as some horrible, inhuman little girl, as after all, she was still a little girl, and little girls really do love their grandmothers deeply. Sue would mourn, mourn really and mourn well. But for now, her jealousy was her only emotion. After all, Sue was quite small and single-minded, and when someone is small and single-minded, they can only have one emotion at a time. Not to say that they couldn't have any emotion, just never a mixture. Sue was quite like a fairy in some ways, and this was one. 

Mrs. Wishcourt never left the window open after that. Never even unlocked. She had lost her first daughter, and would not lose her second. She never found out what really happened on that night, which is probably appropriate, because after all, she wouldn't have believed us had we come up to her and told her straight out. So the windows will remain shut, unfortunately. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:** Well, that's it for chapter 3, hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to the golden muses, lupe silverwing (who has reviewed both chapters, thanks so much, lupe!) and stargazer. I know this one is shorter than the last two, but don't worry, the plot is basically all set up now and we can only get longer. By the way, I only just realized that I forgot my disclaimer at the top of the story. Oops. I do not own Peter Pan, Wendy, Jane, Margaret, The Neverland, Tiger Lily, Smee, Starkey, well, you get my point. This story is based on situations, characters, and settings owned by J.M. Barrie or his rightful descendant, or whoever owns Peter Pan. I am not making any money from this story, nor do I ever plan to make any money from this story. It is merely fun and games, writing about the characters I have grown to know and love through a classic book. Thankyou.   
  
P.S. Oh, and if you've read and haven't reviewed, press that little button below and make my day! Authors always love to hear what readers think, or else why would we post something on line? 


	4. Pirates

**Chapter 4: Pirates**   
  
  
  
  
  


_~~ You are so queer, and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother. ~~_

Katie could hardly contain herself. She woke up with the sun, long before any of the boys. Except Peter, of course. Peter always got up long before anyone else on the island, not bothering with sleep overmuch. After all, what was the use of sleep when you could be having a great adventure? Already, his knife was bloody, and as he wiped the runny, red liquid from the blade, he turned to face Katie. 

"Pirates!" he said, with glee. It was quite as if pirates were a new invention that he had never thought of playing with before. "There are pirates on the island!" 

"Pirates?" 

"Capt. Smee, the only man who Jas. Hook feared!" Peter looked thrilled, but Katie was silent. Hook... Hook... it sounded familiar. Wait, that was it, Hook was the pirate who had tried to kill Peter the first time that great great grandmother Wendy came to the Neverland. 

Hadn't Grandmother Margaret said that Peter was the only person Hook ever feared? Peter, and a crocodile, but the crocodile didn't count, as it was an animal and not a person. "Hook? Hook feared this man? I thought you were the only person who Hook feared." 

"Really?!" Peter was astonished, shocked, and generally taken aback by the news. "How dare this Smee take that honor away from me!" he intoned, his voice pitched several keys lower than usual. Katie laughed. 

"He wants a fight!" she exclaimed, eager for the battle. 

"And a fight he shall have!" Peter crowed. 

They were, at this point, making so much noise as to wake the lost boys. Beetle toddled up to Katie, rubbing his eyes. "Mother, why did you make so much noise?" Katie looked down at him. Mother? When had she agreed to be their Mother? Wait... oh... last night. She sighed. 

"Peter has a new adventure for us all," she explained, and the lost boys, hearing this, wasted no time in tumbling out of bed and lining up next to their mother, to hear of the new adventure. 

"We're going to kill pirates today!" Peter yelled, and the lost boys, even though they weren't quite sure what pirates even were, shrieked in laughter and joy. Killing pirates, now there was an adventure worth having! 

* * * * *

The pirate ship sat low on the water, the dogs were sloth to get up. Their captain chose a select group of scoundrels to explore the island for him. "Look for a hot mushroom, it will cover a chimney," he had told them by means of farewell. "And several hollowed-out trees." 

Of course, Smee had told them this, for he had no idea that when the lost boys all left that time, Peter chose to live with the fairies, and the house he had built, so lovingly, for Wendy, was taken up into the trees. Smee was also rather stupid, as can be seen by the fact that he was certain everything was exactly the same as it was before Hook's demise. This can be excused, I suppose. Things do rarely change on the Neverland. 

It was on this fatal endeavor that Smee's dogs, the scourges of the seas, first laid their eyes on Peter Pan. They were walking through the forest, just as their predecessors had done so long ago before them, singing the sickening songs that their predecessors were wont to sing. 

Peter recognized the songs, as if from a dream. Something instantly said, within him, pirates. He flew into a tree, as sure of his enemy as ever, wanting a closer look at him. There they were, right underneath him. They looked gruesome, big, poorly groomed, the perfect enemy for the perfect fight with the perfect boy. Peter crowed. 

One of the pirates jumped out of fear. "What was that? Some kind of beast? Cap'n warned us to stay away from the animals!" 

A guessing game! This could be fun! "Not a beast!" Peter shouted through the trees. 

A whisper shuddered through the crowd. "Not a beast, not a beast... A redskin?" 

"No injun neither!" Peter shouted. These pirates were slightly dull, not expecting a fearsome noise to come from a small boy. 

"A lost boy?" one of them asked, confounded. 

"No lost boy! I am all that is good about the world! I am the greatest and mightiest boy ever to live! I am the killer of pirates, the hunter of beasts, and the savior of Redskins! I am the leader of the boys!" 

It was Pan! The dogs scrambled, wondering what to do next. They had their victim in sight. Or, not in sight, but very nearby. Now, if only they could see the dratted boy. "Come out, Pan, fight us face to face!" one of them shouted. 

Peter crowed, floating down, effortlessly, from the tree, dagger in hand. 

The fight was simple. None of the pirates were ready for the little boy, as he went through each and every one with a smile and a joy that they couldn't understand. They screamed, as they died, all of them. Peter had the last one pinned by his sword when he relented, smiling proudly. He stepped into the pool of blood from his victims; not noticing really that it even existed. The last pirate eyed him fearfully. This wasn't a boy. This was a monster. 

"Who is your captain?" the boy asked, his voice clear and young, just like any boy's voice. 

"S...s... smee..." stuttered the fearful pirate. He regained courage to spout off his captain's greatest achievement. "The only man Hook ever feared!" 

Peter seemed unimpressed. "Well, tell Captain Smee that the next time he wants to fight, he should face me himself!" Peter crowed, and flew away. 

* * * * *

The news of the pirate ship came as a surprise to the Indian camp. The braves and Tiger Lily went down to the shore to inspect the ship, instantly. They found nothing out of the ordinary there, only the usual accoutrements of piracy. Their princess led the warriors back, away from the stench. Not one of them had a single scalp. 

If the news of the pirates return was a surprise, then Starkey's disappearance was hardly one. Tiger Lily had tried to make sure he was quite busy, but when she returned to the camp, she found the papooses untended, and Starkey's old gun and sword missing. 

Of course. 

She cursed herself, foolish to leave such a dangerous man alive. She should have scalped him like the rest of her enemies, and have his head as a trophy. Now he was dangerous again. 

Not to mention the fact that their papooses were left untended. This simply would not do. 

Quickly relegating the papooses to one of the trusted Squaws of the camp, she ventured into the forest, to find the house in the trees that belonged to Peter Pan. Surely, Peter Pan, the one boy Hook had feared, the sun and the moon and the stars, would help with this dilemma. Surely, he would. 

Unfortunately, Tiger Lily could not fly. 

That had always been a point of contest between her and Peter. He resolutely said that if he had tried to teach her how to fly, she would be able to. Tiger Lily, on the other hand, knew better than that. Her redskins were a functioning part of society, and just as they had papooses, they had elders. Once, she had been a papoose. Only, that had been a very long time ago, so long that she couldn't remember when. Eventually, she would become an elder. Her father, the chief, had died, leaving Tiger Lily in complete control. She had never remembered a time when she had been much younger, but she resolutely told herself that she was growing up here, that she couldn't waste time learning to fly when she would forget soon enough anyway. 

There were even more braves courting her now. The squaws of the camp were now more likely to become angry with her as she kept the foolish braves away with a hatchet. That was a new development, this disrespect. She had even been kissed... once. Tiger Lily smiled at that. Peter would probably still call it a thimble. She never had understood why he called them thimbles, and thimbles kisses. One would have thought one of his mothers, Wendy or Jane, would have informed him of his misconception. Of course, that had never happened. Can one expect the pale-faced squaws to do anything? 

Tiger Lily still hoped, somewhat bleakly, that Peter would come to his senses and start courting her himself. But, in some strange part of her mind, she knew that this would not happen. Courting someone on purpose was not the sort of thing that Peter Pan did. No matter how charming he was. 

Tiger Lily resolutely set herself to climbing the tree to get to the house in the canopy, to ask for help. She was here to put to Peter a request for help. She would not think of courtship or charm. All those thoughts were pushed out of her head. 

Only to fly right back in when she opened the door of the house in the trees. 

There was a girl inside. 

Not just any girl, but a girl her age. She could have sworn that Wendy and Jane had been younger than she. She stood there, dumbfounded. 

"Hullo, Tiger Lily!" shouted Peter, charming and joyous as ever. She snapped out of her surprise and grinned. 

"Hullo, Peter Pan!" One must keep up appearances, she thought. "Do you know there are pirates on the island?" 

"Oh, yes! I've already killed a few!" Peter was proud and cocky as ever. Tiger Lily was hardly surprised. Peter would have killed a few already. And he would be the type to brag about it. 

"They say these are as fearsome as Hook," she warned. It would be best to play it safe, to see if there was worry in the lost boys as well as her Indians. Peter, of course, feared nothing. 

"They say they are more fearsome! They say their captain is the one man Hook ever feared!" Peter grinned. Surely this was going too far... wasn't Peter the only man Hook ever feared? 

"But Peter, I thought that was you." 

"Yes, that's what Katie said too... Funny, you girls always think alike!" Peter chortled at his own joke. 

Tiger Lily sighed. "I think the important thing is this; do we act now, or wait?" 

"I want a good adventure! Let's go get them now!" Peter yelled. He ran out the door, or tried to, but there was a hand holding him back. Katie, the new girl, stopped him. 

"No, Peter, we can at least wait for the other lost boys." She pointed at the boys, who were frantically grabbing weapons of every sort to prepare for the fight. Peter grinned sheepishly. 

"Of course! I was just waiting for the lost boys. You get your red skins ready, Tiger Lily!" 

Sighing, Tiger Lily left. Peter was just as cocky and unreachable as ever. At least now he knew there was danger right under his nose. 

* * * * *

Peter got bored with waiting for the boys to get ready and kill pirates, and by the time they finally were ready, he was quite over the idea and favored a swim in the lagoon instead. So the boys swam in the lagoon, and didn't fight the pirates for another day. 

They were all swimming when the mermaids caught their attention. Peter swam deep down under to them and began playing with their bubbles. Beetle tried to swim down with Peter, being enamored of a certain mermaid with purple hair and a light blue tail, but every time he had to come up for breath before he reached her. This was just as well, because the mermaids didn't like any of the lost boys, and if Beetle had been able to approach the rainbow of bubbles without running out of breath, he would surely have scared the mermaids away. 

Peter came up for breath soon after that, leaving the mermaids to their game. It was time for their mid-afternoon meal. Today, just like all the other days, they all clamored onto Marooner's Rock, and pretended the meal. None of them were really hungry anyway, so they all rejoiced in their pretend food. After the meal, they all pretended to be full, and lay back on the rock, blissful. A few fell asleep in the warm sun. They seemed to take it for granted that they were to wait 30 minutes before getting in the water again, and although Katie didn't believe in the rule, she also was too eager to fit in to do anything that the lost boys didn't do. So, Peter and she sat awake on the rock. 

"Peter, have you ever had a lost girl?" she asked. 

"Oh, certainly not! Girls are much too smart to fall out of their prams!" Peter sounded as if this were the answer she wanted. 

"Oh..." Katie replied, saddened somehow by this news. Peter cocked his head to one side, noticing that she was less than happy. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Nothing... It's just... I would have thought... You mean, the only girls here have been my ancestors?" 

Peter was confused. "What's an ancestor?" 

"Like Wendy, and Jane, and Margaret." 

"Oh, yes! My other mothers! But no, Tiger Lily's been here too, and every so often I've had a fairy. Of course, there are the girl fairies, the blue ones, and the yellow ones which are silly little things which aren't really a girl or a boy, but I suppose they don't count." 

Katie nodded. "I suppose I don't really fit into any of those groups..." she mumbled, not really intending for Peter to hear. 

He heard. "What do you mean? You're a perfectly good mother!" 

Katie sighed in disappointment. She didn't want to be a mother. She wanted to be a lost girl. Peter looked at her, confused again. 

"Now you're being just like Wendy, and Jane, and Maggie, and Tiger Lily even! They all wanted to be something, but it was never my mother! What is it?" 

Katie looked at him. "Nothing, Peter. You wouldn't understand." 

Peter looked put off. "But I'm the cleverest boy in the world! Of course I'd understand! What is it you want to be?" 

Katie smiled slightly. "A lost boy." 

Peter grinned. "But you can't be a lost boy, you're a girl!" 

Katie nodded. "I know. That's why I didn't tell you." 

Peter, confused, didn't say anything. Katie didn't have the heart to tell him what she had meant. Soon the half hour was up and the boys were in the water, Katie with them. And so the lost boys spent a halcyon day in the mermaid lagoon. 

Tiger Lily's Indians, on the other hand, were all ready for Peter to start the attack throughout the day, and waiting at dusk, when Peter was flying over, and asked them what the matter was. 

Tiger Lily almost smacked him right then and there, but he was so innocently concerned and honestly confused that she forgave him. 

After all, few of us could stand up to Peter Pan. 

* * * * *

Sue was back in her element, sleeping through class, passing notes, chatting in the hallways. Who wanted to go off to get all dirty and mucky on adventures with that Peter fellow when one could be enjoying life with one's friends? She smiled, ruefully. This was the life. 

On the bus, one of Katie's friends approached her. She edged away, not wanting to be associated with that poorly dressed, glasses-wearing freak. Her luck did not hold. "Sue," asserted the girl. 

"What is it?" snapped Sue in return. If she had to speak with this mistake of nature, she would at least keep it short. 

"Why wasn't Katie in school today? Was she sick?" the friend sounded concerned, plaintive. Sue had no patience. However, here was the perfect time to get revenge on her sister. She was no longer sure why she was angry at Katie, only sure that she had to get revenge, no matter how much that cost. 

"Katie ran off," Sue replied, smugly and confidently, just as she was sure this friend expected her to say it. Katie's friends always thought of her as a manipulative, shallow idiot. She often wondered why. She wasn't an idiot at all. 

"Ran off?" gasped the friend. 

"Yes, she ran off," Sue repeated, savoring the moment before the betrayal. Because Sue knew that Katie's friend would betray Katie when the next bit of news came out. "With a boy." 

Although the statement was true, it carried an endless number of connotations that were in no way, shape, or form appropriate to the situation. "Ran off with Peter Pan," or "Ran off to have adventures," would have been exceedingly more accurate to the situation. Sue was fully aware of what she was doing, and fully aware of the effect. 

"You're lying!" shrieked the friend, her uncertainty showing in her anger. After all, if she really were so sure that Sue was lying, why would it be necessary to make a big scene? "Katie would never do that! Never, ever, ever!" 

Sue remained calm throughout. "Deny it if you like, I'm only telling the truth. Katie ran off with a boy." 

Katie's friend retreated, shaking, sobbing, to her seat. Sue smiled. She could tell exactly what the older girl was thinking; "This doesn't happen. This isn't real. My friends wouldn't run off chasing some crush, they're smarter than that, they're better than that, they're not harems." 

Of course, Sue knew that now Katie would be called just that, a slut, and a whore. It was what she wanted for her sister, just the sort of revenge that would be the most worthwhile. Delicious, sweet revenge, it was all that Sue thought about for the entire ride home. 

Her sister was ruined. Sue was happy. It didn't even occur to the younger sister that Katie might not come back. Of course Katie was coming back, she had only left for spring-cleaning. It didn't matter that the window was locked. It didn't matter that the apartment had burned down and grandmother Margaret was dead. Katie was coming back. Was she? 

She has to. Or else, all that was for nothing. Or else, I really was right; she really did get the better deal. 

**Author's Note:** This one was longer, I think. Anyway, thanks so much to Bil, Angelsmile06, and lupe silverwing. This chapter is dedicated to lupe, my one loyal reviewer. Thanks so much! Anyway, I already have two more chapters read, but I want to add some stuff in the middle of them, so it might be a while until my next update. Probably not this long, but then again finals are coming up, so who knows. In any case, everything will fall into place, eventually. Oh, and this time I'm going to be strict about my rule. I want to know if people like this, so I will wait until I get 5 more reviews, and then post. Basically, if you are the 15th reviewer, the next chapter will be up soon after you review. I want to know what you people think! If you hate it, then send me an e-mail if you don't want to post it on the site. The wonderful thing about fanfiction.net (or one of the wonderful things) is that you can revise your stories and re-post them even better than before. But I can't do anything if I don't have reviews to go by. So, in conclusion, REVIEW! Press that little blue button and make an author's day! 

Here, this time I'll be nice and even have some questions for people who don't know how to review. 

General: What do you think of Katie? Peter? The new lost boys? The plot? Does my grammar need work? (I hope not, I checked it several times) 

Characters: Are my characters different from the norm, or the same as everyone else's? Is my portrayal of Peter up to par? What about Sue, do you absolutely hate her, through and through, or do you think she's just a jealous, misguided child who wants to be the best at everything? Did I deviate from the book at any point in my characters? 

Plot: Is my plot interesting? Are you completely bored with the story or eagerly awaiting new chapters? (If you're eagerly awaiting the new chapters, then get your friends to review so I'll post more!) Is it the same as everyone else's or interesting and unique? Do you just want me to get around to Smee trying to kill Katie and Peter saving the day, (I laugh. Who says I'll do something like that?) or do you want me to explore the characters and wait a while before wrapping everything up into a nice little bow? 

Appearance/Readability: Is it readable? Is it nicely presented? Does it flow well? Are spelling and grammar errors minimal? Do I successfully at least allude to Mr. Barrie's style and meter? (If I do I'll be happy!) 

Okay. That's a pretty general format for a review, if you want to be in depth. Of course, you can just ignore all of that. As long as you post a review, I'll be happy. This did something. 


	5. Starkey's Plan

Chapter 5: Starkey's Plan

_~~ Such is the terrible man against whom Peter Pan is pitted. Which will win? ~~ _

            On the deck of the Red Lady, night had fallen. The green lantern hanging off the bow masked the ship; in the sunlight one would be able to see its bright red coloring and the red hair of its figurehead. Now, it appeared greenish brown in the dank green light. A putrid, dirty shadow floating in the otherwise clear blue-green lagoon. 

             For a while, there had been a redskin troop on the banks of the lagoon, or so Smee's dogs told him, preparing for attack. They had been all painted out for war, the spies said. However, looking out into the forest from his ship, Smee saw no such troop. He was inclined to believe that they had been there, but now they had left. The scum of his crew were too scared of him to lie.

            There was only one reason Peter would not have already attacked the ship. Peter knew everything that happened on this island, and Smee knew for a fact that several of his pirates were already dead. Smee knew Peter. Peter would go after the captain, demand that, whatever happened, the biggest obstacle be left for him alone. Peter would face fear and adventure in the face. So where was Peter? Why had Peter not come?

            Peter must have forgotten.

            Curse the boy and his childish forgetfulness. Smee would have to do something to make it clear to this boy that he meant business. But what to do, Smee didn't know.

            There was a noise, a splashing sound. Someone was swimming towards the boat. Smee looked overboard, staring into the dim, green-tinted water. Who was that? He looked familiar. Someone from the old days, but all the pirates who had been alive then had perished… Wait, no, there he was, surely it was Starkey. Smee lowered a rope for Starkey to climb up on.

            "Smee? Is that you?" whispered the newcomer.

            "Starkey?" replied Smee.

            "It is you! I thought you died! I thought they all died, except me!"

            "I thought the same thing, Starkey! I thought the same thing!" 

            The two pirates and comrades embraced. "Oh, the good old days, under such a captain as James Hook!" whispered Starkey. "What a captain he was!"

            Smee motioned for Starkey to follow him into the head. "Certainly. What a man, what a captain. But I must keep up appearances, the men think I was the only man Hook feared."

            "_You? _The only man Hook feared? Oh, that's rich! Where'd they get that one?" Starkey's voice was full of disregard. He hardly thought that Smee could be the one spreading this rumor about their beloved, and horrifying, captain Hook.

            "From me," Smee replied, his voice as small as possible. Starkey's surprise was evident, and Smee explained. "It's the only way that I could get together a crew to come and get revenge on Peter Pan and those blasted lost boys. You do want revenge on the boys, don't you?"

            "Well, certainly, Smee. But, the problem is, all those lost boys grew up long ago. They're dead now. All the ones here are new, they are. So if you want revenge on those old lost boys, you're out of luck."

            "Then I'll get revenge on the new lost boys! I don't care, as long as I get my revenge! I can get my revenge on Peter Pan, he was always the chief one!" Smee shouted, and then realized that maybe Peter had left too. "Peter is still here, right?"

            "Of course. And still their leader."

            "Then we shall get revenge."

            "Yes. Revenge."

            "What to do, though, what to do?"

            "Why not lure them out with a cake, like Hook planned to do? After all, they no longer have a mother."

            "Excellent, Starkey! Excellent!"

            The two pirates began reminiscing, and the tales they recounted were so bloody and violent that I would rather not retell them here. After a few hours, they decided to wake up the dogs and begin their plan. 

* * * * *

            "A story, a story!" the boys yelled, swarming around Katie. "Tell us a story!"

            Katie yawned. She was tired, having had adventures all day. "A story, then? Let's see… which one would you like?"

            "One with adventure!" yelled John.

            "And magic!" added Daisy.

            "And a rat!" finished Beetle. Katie wasn't sure he even knew what a rat was, but she accepted his statement. A story with adventure, magic, and a rat. She knew just the story. 

            "One day, not so long ago, in Surrey, strange things began happening. You see, The Dursleys, residents of Little Whinging, Surrey, and completely normal people, found their baby nephew, Harry Potter, in a basket outside the front door one night in 1981. Harry's parents had been murdered, by the evil wizard Voldemort, but that's not what the Dursleys told Harry, because they knew that Harry's parents were wizards and they didn't want him becoming one himself. They told him that his parents had died in a car crash, and he was left with a peculiar lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

            "And so, Harry grew up, thinking he was absolutely normal, even though strange things would always happen when he was scared or angry. However, on his eleventh birthday, he received a letter, inviting him to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" 

            Beetle was gratified by the prominence of Scabbers the rat, who Katie concentrated on, to please him. Daisy was thrilled by the magic, for the story is all about magic and few have more. And John was satisfied with the amount of adventure, because it is, after all, a very adventurous story. She had, however, only gotten halfway through before she stopped.

            She stopped, and with reason, because all the lost boys except Peter were asleep. She turned to Peter. 

            "You tell better stories than Wendy used to," he said, absentmindedly.

            "Really? How sweet of you to say," she replied, confused. He could hardly remember one day from the next, how did he remember Wendy now? She guessed he just could remember some times and not others. 

            "She told stories about silly old grownups getting married and having children. Your stories are about adventure, they're more fun."

            Katie nodded. 

            "Jane told boring stories too. Margaret wasn't so bad, but her stories weren't as exciting as yours. I thought all girls thought about was silly old grownups getting married and having children."

            Katie laughed. "That's like saying all boys think about is food. It limits the gender so much. I honestly am ashamed of you, Peter Pan, for thinking that all girls are like that." Katie was only teasing, but Peter took it seriously.

            "Don't say that, Katie, even the girls who don't have exciting stories are more use than 40 boys! I didn't mean it in a bad way at all!"

            Katie grinned. "I know, I was just teasing."

            Peter didn't understand, but he smiled at her, one of his charming smiles. He still had all of his baby teeth. He went to his hammock and fell asleep. Katie paused on the way to her small bed, in the corner, thoughtful. 

            She would have a lot to get used to here, she thought. Just that day, Beetle had come up to her while they were swimming in the lagoon, and asked her to sew him a pocket. How was she to sew him a pocket? Her grandmother had taught her to sew, of course, but she wasn't very good, and she didn't have any of the materials there with her. She had told him that she would need a needle, thread, and something to make the pocket out of before she sewed him a pocket. He looked downright dejected. Peter and John were the only ones with pockets in the whole group. 

And then there was the time that she had decided to try and play with the mermaids. She swam down, and out of shock that a girl should be swimming down to them, the mermaids all froze. When she had kicked a bubble through the goal at the end of the rainbow, however, the mermaids all ran away. Peter and she swam up to the surface.

            The look on Peter's face was shocked. "Mothers _don't _play with the mermaids!" he had said.

            "And why shouldn't I? I'm as good a swimmer as you are, I'm sure!" Peter took offense at this.

            "Really? I think not! I'm the best swimmer there ever was!" After all, he was Peter Pan, and he was the best at everything.

            What commenced then was a race to the island and back, nearly 300 meters. Of course, neither of the children counted, but by the end of it, all the lost boys were watching curiously, as Peter and their mother raced around the lagoon. Katie beat him, but only by a fraction of a second. She was out of breath. 

            "See? I… told you… I could… beat… you!" she yelled, and fell into the water, splashing all of the lost boys. 

            Peter was dumbstruck. "Mothers don't play with the mermaids… Mothers don't swim fast… they certainly don't beat me in races…" he kept muttering. Katie couldn't tell if he was disappointed or pleased. She certainly had told them stories every night before bed, so was there really a problem? Peter seemed to want her to stay, so there couldn't be a problem. There couldn't.

            When they had gotten back to the house in the trees, Beetle had come up to her with a rusty needle, a spool of thread, and animal skin, materials for a pocket. She had smiled, and nodded. She would get to work on his pockets immediately. 

            She fell asleep with two pockets for Beetle beside her bed. She was determined to make a good mother for them, even if it meant doing things she wasn't sure she liked, sewing and telling stories. The adventures would start soon, right?

* * * * *

            And so they did, they certainly did. The very next day, they began. Katie, Peter, and the lost boys climbed down from the house in the trees, to find a cake, a beautiful cake, sitting on the ground, waiting for them. Bright white, with blue flowers in icing. The boys ran towards it, grabbing it and taking large handfuls, but before any could enter their mouths, Katie stopped them. "Stop!" she yelled, and they all froze. "What do you think you're doing? You will have no cake unless everyone gets an even share!" she knew enough to avoid conflicts. The lost boys looked around. There was cake on the ground, cake on their faces, cake in their hands, cake everywhere except in their mouths. It was so spread out that no one could get a good sized piece if they had to split it up between them. The lost boys dropped the cake. Katie smiled. "Now look at you! You're all dirty! I say we have a nice swim in the lagoon to wash off!" Peter was looking at the cake hungrily, but the lost boys followed Katie away to the lagoon. 

            Peter was left alone. He reached down, gingerly picking up a piece of the chocolate dessert. He lifted his hand to his mouth, and took a bite. 

            Poor Peter, that he should be the only one to partake in the poisoned cake. Poor, undeserving Peter, he should be the only one to fall into the pirates' trap. Lucky Smee, Peter didn't always listen to a mother's directions. However, the poison was not so vile that it came to work instantly, and for the moment, the pirates on watch guessed that he hadn't ingested enough to set off the poison.

            The rest of the pirates found their trap smeared all over the forest that night. Fortunately none of the boys had eaten it. If they had, the poison inside would surely have done them in.

            The injuns didn't fare half so well. Nor did Peter.

            He was in bed the next day, horribly sick to the stomach and feeling as if the world were about to end; Peter Pan was never sick. They sent the lost boys out to play in the lagoon, but Katie and Peter stayed in the house in the tree, Peter relishing in self-pity and Katie almost positive that he had, in fact, eaten some of the cake.

            She finally convinced herself to ask him about it, when he was looking on the rebound, that evening.

            "No, I didn't," he said, fully confident that he would never eat 'that cake I told you not to' after all, why on earth would he ever disobey his mother?

            "Well, then, what kept you from the lagoon for so long? You were quite far behind us when we reached it."

            "I must have had an adventure. I can't remember," he answered, truthfully. He couldn't remember getting to the lagoon late, either, he only remembered the splendid game that Katie and he had played with the mermaids. She certainly was a peculiar mother.

            Katie sighed. "The next time you go off and have an adventure, promise that you'll take me along, okay?"

            Peter blinked and nodded. Katie was content to accept his answer, although she still believed he had, after all, eaten some of the forbidden cake. 

            The poison had worked its course, and because Katie made Peter stay in his hammock all day, Peter ended up none the worse for his morsel of cake. However, the lost boys as a whole certainly did. For it was that day that the pirate spies found out that Peter had a mother once more.

            The pirates saw all the lost boys leaving the house, and paid them no heed; it was their captain that they were after. When Peter didn't come, they snuck up to the house, climbed the tree, and peered inside, to see Katie kneeling over Peter's hammock, wiping his brow. 

            The sight of the good little mother sent them for a loop, and they sped all the way out of the forest and onto the ship, stopping at Smee's door and shouting, "He has a mother! He has a mother!"

            Smee came out, frowning. "You mean the Wendy-lady has returned?" he asked. He was almost positive that she had grown up, and Starkey was sure he had never seen her, for several decades.

            "No, no, she is named Katie!" yelled the pirates, who had heard Peter thank Katie in his best theatrical impression of a dying boy. 

            "Katie? Then it is a new mother," worried Smee, and once more locked himself up in his cabin, with Starkey. 

            "I have a plan," muttered Starkey, once the door was closed. "This one will work for sure."

            "Well, what is it?"

            Starkey whispered into Smee's ear, careful that no one should hear, because one never knew if a fairy was hiding behind the lantern, or if a mermaid was just beneath the window of the cabin. Smee cackled with delight. "Excellent, my good Starkey! The bird is caught!"

Author's Note: Thanks go out to all who read previous chapters, the reviewers thereof especially. Lupe Silverwing stands out as the only known reviewer of chapter 4, and so bigger thanks go to her. This chapter, however, is dedicated to Silvara Wilde, who e-mailed me asking for it to be posted, and thereby got it posted. Thanks for requesting, Silvara, I hadn't posted because I thought no one liked the story. With that said, review please! If you tell me you like it in a review, then I'll post it without any e-mails. You've read the story, take a few seconds and make my day! Please?


	6. Dissension in the ranks

Chapter 6: Dissension in the Ranks 

_~~ "It's the wickedest, prettiest policy I've ever heard of!" ~~_

While Katie sat patiently by Peter's hammock, and Peter wallowed in his own self-pity, and the pirates set their new plan into action, he lost boys were ignorantly playing in the lagoon. John was floating out towards mariner's rock. Daisy, Tobby, and Dows were splashing about, and wondering when Katie would come to teach them the new game she had promised, "Mark-o Pole-o" or some such thing. Beetle was sitting on the edge of the water, staring down at the Mermaids, too afraid to get in the water without Peter or Katie there to watch him.

He put his toe in the water, testing it cautiously. Tobby saw him nervously edging towards the water, and paddled over, Daisy and Dows not far behind. "C'mon, Beetle," he called, "Get in already!"

Beetle looked up, very scared. "I'm waiting for my mother," he mumbled.

The ensuing laughter broke John's reveries, and he swam over. He was fairly angry with the boys for interrupting his dream, as it was a very pleasant one. He had just escaped the Never Land, and was flying to London to become a great lawyer. Of course, had Peter known one of his lost boys was dreaming of becoming a lawyer, the boy would be ostracized faster than he could say 'I don't believe in fairies' and as such, John was in no position to tell anyone that he had been dreaming.

Besides, thoughts of being a lawyer weren't the only blasphemous thoughts in his dream. Peter had tried to stop him from leaving, and the last image John had seen, the one that remained freshest in his mind, was Peter, lying in a puddle of his own blood, on the shores of the Never Land, the waves lapping at his mutilated body. John had flown away from that, the other lost boys rejoicing. They would be free of the tyrannical ruler now, free to do exactly as they pleased, and not crushed beneath the foot of some big headed boy named Peter Pan.

The boys were still laughing when John reached the shore, these murderous thoughts in his mind. He stood up, taller than any of the boys, and looked to Beetle. "What's the commotion?" he snapped.

"Beetle over there," began Tobby, "He won't get into the water because Katie's not here. He wants his mother," Tobby jeered, and tried to pull Beetle into the water, but Beetle jumped away.

John stared, shocked, at the youngest lost boy. What was this? Did Beetle really think that Katie was his mother? Was Beetle really that dependant on the generally replaceable and unnecessary female figure? John scoffed. "Beetle," he began, "You didn't need a mother before Katie came."

Beetle couldn't grasp this idea. "Hasn't Katie always been here?" he asked, curiously and not a little afraid.

"Yes, hasn't Katie always been here," repeated Daisy, who was now trying in vain to remember a time before Katie. "I mean, I can't remember a time when Katie wasn't here. Can you remember a time when Katie wasn't here, Dows?"

Dows shook his head. "Can you, Tobby?"

Tobby looked thoughtful. "No, I can't. Can you, John?"

"Yes," answered John, decisively. 

Silence reigned over the lagoon. No one was sure why not, but John was not supposed to disagree with the other lost boys. The four smaller boys stood, motionless. John grabbed Beetle, and pulled him into the water forcibly. "You don't need a mother, none of us needs a mother," he yelled, nearly drowning a screaming Beetle, as the three other boys watched in horror. 

Beetle writhed out of John's reach, and, crying, escaped to the shore. The lost boys could do nothing but stare at John. "You all sicken me!" He yelled, "You're such babies! See if I ever play with you again!" With that, he turned and swam out to Mariner's rock. How could the boys forget all the time before Katie was in the Never Land? How could the boys be so reliant on their mother? Didn't they remember the adventures they'd had before the stupid girl had come? 

John fell asleep again, on Mariner's rock, and was left to his dreaming.

This time, he was a pirate. He wasn't quite sure what a pirate was, but whatever it was, so was he. He had a long sword, and a patch over one eye, and he was fighting Peter. Step, lunge, thrust, and then—

He woke up, feeling the water lapping at his feet. Time to swim back. But, the shore looked so far away now, and none of the other lost boys were anywhere to be seen. John jumped up, and tried to fly, only to find himself propelled towards the water with surprising force. 

He landed with a sound so loud he was surprised the rest of the island didn't rush over to see what the matter was, and began paddling, meekly, to the shore. He couldn't fathom why he wasn't flying, but he wasn't. Maybe he needed some more fairy dust. It was insignificant anyway. 

By the time he reached the shore, he was worn out, and it was dark. He hurried back to the house in the tree, but he had already been missed. The boys were inventing exciting stories about his death, how the wild animals had eaten him, or the Piccaninnies had turned traitor, and his scalp was adorning Tiger Lily's teepee. 

When he entered the house, the boys ran over and inquired about his adventures, all except Peter. Peter looked distinctly jealous, trapped in his hammock, pretending to be sick. John saw, then, the image from his dream, of Peter dead on the shores of the Never Land, and he smiled. The boys were shouting for a story of an adventure, and John did his best to make one up on the spot. He knew Peter's orders were that no lost boy could have an adventure without their captain, but why should he follow Peter's orders?

* * * * *

That night, Katie couldn't sleep. She stared into the air, thinking. Peter's orders had been that no lost boy was to have adventures without him, so why had John gone off on an adventure? Something was afoot that she couldn't control. Perhaps John had grown up, and needed to be banished from the island. But, what would the poor boy do if he were banished? There was nowhere to go from here, you either stayed or you died. John's parents surely had forgotten him since he had been lost. The window was probably barred.

Which brought back the memory; hadn't her mother always barred the window? Would Sue have taken Katie's place when Katie returned? If she didn't return soon, they might all have forgotten about her. She couldn't stay in the Never Land. What was she to do?

A voice came up behind her, in the dark. "You must leave."

She gasped. Rarely had her conscience spoken to her in such loud and unwavering tones. "But, I love it here. Why must I leave?"

"Has Peter to tell you his story yet?" asked the voice.

"No," she responded. "I'm the one who tells stories."

"Well then, he's been fooling you all along, you silly girl. Peter ran away from his family, but he stayed too long. When he returned, the window was barred and his family had forgotten about him. There was another little boy in his place." Katie knew this story, Grandmother Margaret told it to her with the rest, but she still gulped, seeing Sue taking her place in the family. "He hasn't told you because he wants you to be stuck too, so you can feel the pain that he did when he knew he could never have a family. Peter's a vengeful little devil, deep down inside, an evil little sprite."

Katie refused to believe that. Peter was not vengeful. She looked over to his sleeping body; he looked just like an angel. "No, no, he's not! He's just a little boy, and he does so need a mother."

"Do not you, Katie, need a mother too?"

Katie sighed. She had no response to that. 

"And does not your family need you?"

Katie thought of Sue, and her mother. Sue who scorned Katie for her failure to fit in, and her mother who disregarded Katie for her imagination and belief in great-Grandmother Margaret's stories. "No. They're just as glad with me here. If anything, they're happier with me away," she sobbed. 

"Everyone?"

Great-Grandmother Margaret surely was happy for her, and her father spent so much time at work that he probably hardly even noticed the absence of his elder daughter. Who would care? Her friends? Perhaps. Her teachers? In all likelihood, they'd relish in another student to fail. She couldn't think of anyone who would care particularly if she dropped dead right then. "No. No one cares. I shouldn't go back."

"No one cares? How do you know? How do you know it's true, unless you go back? Surely, if you stay here, they will all forget you, but there must be someone who wants you to return. You'll never know if you don't go, and you'll never be able to go if you don't go soon."

Katie gulped. "I… I suppose I should go, then."

"And hurry, so as not to be too late!"

"Yes… I'll hurry…"

The voice receded, and Katie was left to her unhappy thoughts. She had to leave. This wasn't where she belonged. Peter had been trying to fool her all along, and was just kidnapping her from her loved ones and family. She had to return to them, the ones who really cared. She looked over towards Peter, unsure. There he lay, and as she turned to him, a shudder passed through his little child-like body. He cried out, emanating fear from whatever horrible nightmare he was having. Katie sat up, watching as he shook and cried in his sleep.

She stood up, walked across the room, and stood over him as he shivered in fear. She reached out to comfort him, but something stopped her, and she could not touch him. Almost crying herself, she turned and crossed the room to her own bed. She would have to leave. The next morning, she woke up soon after Peter. She called for his attention. 

"Peter, I must leave."

He looked shocked. No other mother had left so soon. They had all had at least one good adventure. "Why? You just got here!"

"My family, they need me, and I need to explain to them about the Never Land. My mother locks the windows, Peter, and I'm worried that Sue might not open them. I need to explain to them before they forget me."

Peter looked terrified at the idea of a locked window, but seemed untouched by the concept of Katie leaving. "So, you're leaving, then? Zan! Wake up! Take Katie home."

Katie blinked, tears running down her cheeks. "Peter, aren't you going to try and stop me?"

"Why should I?" he asked, confused and a little angry. "You've already decided, haven't you?" His cool was fading. If she really didn't want to go, then maybe it was okay for him to show that he didn't want her to leave either. "What good would arguing do?"

Katie shook her head. "Will you come back, for spring-cleaning time?"

Peter nodded, coldly. "Just like always." It made Katie even more upset. Just like always, he had forgotten about her mother completely. Just like always meant he wouldn't try to remember. Just like always was no commitment.

Zan had wearily gotten out of her apartment in the little house, only to understand what was going on and frantically flit around Peter's head. "You can't just let her fly away!" Zan yelled. After all, Zan had taken a liking to the girl, and Katie had proven an excellent adventurer by all means. "Besides," she started, "I don't know the way. You'll have to come with." This, of course, was only partially true, but Zan thought it of enough importance that Peter come with that she could lie.

Peter sighed. "Very well, then. I'll show you the way back." Katie looked marginally happier, and with that, they set off, leaving the lost boys in a peaceful, deep sleep. 

Outside, below the house, Starkey almost jumped for joy as he saw his plan taking shape.

The way back to London was quick, because the Never Land was of the opinion that Peter had better get there and get back fast as he could, and therefore looked for the mainland for the travelers. They found the city soon enough, but finding the house was another matter.

They flew first to great-Grandmother Margaret's home, because she was more likely to keep her window open in the night, for the girl to come through. Katie's heart nearly stopped when she saw the burnt remnants that had once been the apartment building. She landed on the ceiling, looking for some sign, something to show her what had happened. She found nothing. Peter waited impatiently. 

"I don't think it's here," he commented, not realizing the severity of the situation.

"No," Katie replied, a tear rolling down her face, "No, it's not."

They then flew across town, to the house where Katie and Sue lived. They flew up to a window. Sue was inside, inside Katie's room, using the room as her own. She glanced over to the window, and seeing her older sister Sue smiled wickedly, and cracked it open only enough to speak through it. 

"Well, I see the prodigal sister has returned," she whined. 

"Sue, open the window," Katie replied, trying to remain calm.

"Why should I?" snarled the younger one.

"Just open it, please, so I can get in."

"You can use the front door, just like anyone else, _sister dear._"

At that moment, Sue's mother yelled in, "Sue? To whom are you talking?"

"No one, mother!" shouted Katie's sister, and quickly drew the blinds before her mother walked in. 

In the five-minute conversation that followed, no mention of Katie appeared. Katie lost her happy thought. She fell to the ground, landing with "oomph!" and bumped her head. She saw Peter above her, looking confused, and heard footsteps coming towards the window. The blinds were opened, and Sue's mother peeked out. The older lady saw Peter and screamed.

"You're not real!" she yelped.

"You're a grownup!" he yelped in return, and gnashed his little teeth at her. Peter hated grownups with the scorn of betrayal.

"Who are you?" asked Sue's mother.

"I'm Peter Pan," answered Peter.

She glared at the boy. "Where are the strings, then? The ones that hold you up there? Don't think I can't see right through you, mister!"

Peter was taken aback. "There are no strings. Why would I have strings?"

"Peter Pan doesn't exist, that's why. You fancy you'll play a nice trick on me, you figured out about my crazy ancestors and you think I'm just the same. Well, I'll show you! No boy's going to fake flying and take my daughter away from me!"

Zan rang out, "You have two daughters, unless you forgot, and one of them already ran away," but of course Sue's mother couldn't understand her. 

Peter caught on to the argument and yelled back at the lady in the window, "I already took your daughter away to the Never Land, lady, and I was trying to bring her back, but you don't deserve her! You've already forgotten about her!"

Katie's mother, for she was Katie's mother and not only Sue's mother, was silent. "Katie?" she stumbled, and then raced down to the front door, finding her elder daughter crying in the lawn. The two exchanged a motherly embrace, which made Peter feel horribly left out. Then, Katie no longer sobbing, they returned into the house. 

Peter had come so close to having a mother forever, but once again, he had failed. Downhearted and melancholy, he turned to the sky, flying away. Now that Katie was gone, he could safely shed a tear that he had lost yet another mother.

**Author's Note**: Okay, it's not over, by any means. I still have a long way to go, and I mean long. Oh, and you should probably expect an upped rating in the near future (for violence. Come on, it's Starkey's plan to kill the Lost Boys and Peter, what did you think?) So, if that bothers you too much than say so in your review or e-mail me and I can send you a lighter version. 

I probably shouldn't be surprised that this story has more reviews than my other ones. After all, it's Peter Pan, which makes it infinitely good. ^-^ I have to write more Peter Pan I think. I have another plot idea for when this is finished. Thanks to the reviewers of chapter 5: Elf Pilot (I can't hope to be as good as Barrie, but I try to emulate him. ^-^ I loved the book, in case you can't tell. And double thanks for putting me on your favorite stories list!), iklejl (It's continued, and not so much 'adventure'ing in this chapter I think.), Lupe, and SweetVGirl.

I'm not sure who to dedicate this chapter to, but I think that it should be to my mom, who would keep the window open, and would understand if I wanted to leave again. (I hope!)


	7. Captured!

Disclaimer: Peter Pan, and everything recognizable to Peter Pan, belongs to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London, to which Mr. J. M. Barrie bequeathed his copyright when he died, in 1937. Needless to say, I was not even born when this happened and I had nothing to do with the creation of Peter Pan. I am just a lowly fan, and writing this in my own time, not making any money whatsoever. That said, please enjoy.

Chapter 7: Captured!

_~But he does so need a mother~_

            When Peter returned to the Neverland, he was disconsolate. He was firmly of the opinion that he would never have a mother again. At least, no mother who knew enough stories, or who was fun enough on adventures. After all, this last mother, she was almost… boy-like. He returned to the lost boys just after they had awoken. After all, time does pass slower on the Neverland when Peter's away.

            The boys were getting ready to hunt when Peter came back, John looking rather impatient by the entrance. Peter pushed him aside in the process of getting in, and soon all the lost boys had run around him, except John, still standing by the doorway. Beetle was jumping up and down, ecstatic as he held up his animal skin, with two neat pockets sewn into the sides. "Look what the Katie-lady made for me! Pockets!"

            "Pockets!" Peter wailed, remembering his journey, and slinked onto his hammock. "No more pockets!" Zan flew around the room melancholically, wondering why Katie had decided to leave so soon after all.

            "No more pockets? What do you mean, Peter?" 

            "We have no mother! Our mother has left us!" Peter wailed again. By this time, he was making fun of his sadness more than actually being sad, but this was quite a fun game and he intended to play it for a while longer.

            "No mother? Why has she left us?"

            Peter did not reply to this. He was still not quite sure. Her mother had been horrid to her, and yet the foolish girl returned. Peter couldn't tell if she would regret it or not, but he hoped she would. Zan would have ringed something, but she was just as confused as Peter. She had come to like the girl. 

            The boys were desolated by the news. They ran about the house, yelling, "Katie's left! Our mother's left!"

            Daisy decided that she must have just been hiding. "I say we look for her," he proposed, reasoning "She must be somewhere in the house, what do you say, Tobby?" 

Tobby called in assent, "I agree, let's look for her. What do you think, Dows?" The two boys were ransacking the house, looking for their mother.

Dows joined them in the melee, answering, "I agree, what do you think, Beetle?"

The youngest nearly tripped as he began to pull apart the bedding in the search for Katie. "I agree, what do you think, John?" he yelped.

"I disagree," John answered. 

The boys continued searching for a second before looking up at their eldest. No lost boy had ever disagreed before. What was John saying? They stared. "But, we don't have a mother. She must be in the house, we've got to find her," Daisy whined meekly.

"I disagree, I say," answered John, louder. "It does no use, tearing apart the house for a mother who couldn't hide in here if she tried! I say you all should stop right now!"

The boys only stared at John. He had given an order. Only Peter gave orders. They didn't know what to do. Were they supposed to do what John said, because he was bigger than they were, after all, or were they supposed to continue on until Peter told them to stop? Even Peter, who had been pretending to cry while they attacked various objects of their small house, stood and looked John straight in the face.

"Peter," Beetle whined, "What are we to do?" He was honestly confused, as he looked between the two older boys. 

On a normal day, Peter would banish John for presuming to give orders. After all, he was the leader. However, on that day, feigning misery was much more fun than was banishing John, and so Peter avoided the subject. He remembered that it was important to have a John, for some reason. There was nothing to do but smooth over the situation, by agreeing with John. "There is nothing to do, boys, we shall simply have to do without!" And with that, he slumped back onto his hammock.

            One would think they had always had a mother from the reaction to this statement. John looked at Peter in a new way for a moment, and then turned his cold gaze back to the other lost boys. Peter was handling the situation. He paused for a moment, before slipping outside, and off to the lagoon.

            "Oh, come now boys, surely we can get on without a silly mother," Peter exclaimed. The boys took heart at Peter's comment, and set the house to rights. Soon, they were playing in the lagoon and planning adventures. They didn't even notice that Peter was not there. 

            However, the pirates did, and when they saw that all the boys were playing, they went straight to the house in the trees. They knew that Peter would tire of his false misery eventually, and come out to play. They were there, waiting for him. As he climbed out of his tree, deciding to keep the game going a little while longer and pretend to have lost his happy thought, they grabbed him from behind and shoved him into a sack. Before Peter could escape, he was on the Red Lady and locked up.

            Peter slammed on the door to his cell, shouting whatever came into his head at the pirates. He hoped he sounded threatening, and he fancied he did. "Let me out of here, you barnacle ridden, rotting old cowards! You wouldn't dare meet me face to face! Come out here and fight like real people, not like sniveling dogs! You're so cowardly a mouse can make you run in terror! You're so smelly, your stench alerts ships miles away! You're so old, you should be wearing false teeth!" 

He wasn't sure what half of it meant, but that didn't really matter. He had heard other boys say it when pirates caught them, so he imagined that was the sort of thing you were supposed to say. Soon enough, a leader, or two leaders, emerged. One he recognized as Starkey, the old man who tended to the papooses for Tiger Lily, the other he didn't know.

            "Peter Pan, we meet again," said the one Peter didn't know. Peter squinted at the man, confused. He was fairly sure that he hadn't seen the man ever before in his life.

            "Who are you?" he asked.

            The old man laughed, a surprisingly warm and jolly laugh for someone as evil as he was. After all, he must be evil if he had captured Peter and locked him up. Then again, this man certainly didn't look anything other than vaguely likable as he wiped his glasses on his only slightly dirty shirt. "I am Smee, the Irish bo'sun, the one man who Hook feared!" 

            Smee? Peter remembered he was the one everyone was saying was stealing Peter's name, or something. "Why are you stealing my name?" he demanded, and then added, "I thought _I_ was the only person Hook feared!" Wasn't that what Tiger Lily and Katie had said?

            "_You_? You puny little boy, Hook never feared you!"

            Or maybe not… Peter thought for a second… Hook… Hook… who was Hook, anyway? A pirate? An Injun? Couldn't be an Injun, he had always been friends with the Injuns… Now he remembered! The lost boys' favorite story, of course! He had killed Hook with his first mother, Wendy! "He did right before I killed him, he did," Peter crowed.

            A gasp went through the crew.

            And the crocodile, Peter remembered the crocodile too, now! "He did right before I cut of his hand and fed it to the crocodile!"

            Another gasp.

            But Smee… Peter remembered Smee now too! He was the gentle one, the one who would clean his glasses instead of his sword after killing someone, the one who the lost boys found lovable, the one who would hem on the deck of the ship. Hook had most certainly not feared the Irish bo'sun. "I don't remember him fearing _you._"

            Smee merely smiled. Starkey spoke. "You, Peter Pan, have an amazing ability to confuse stories with the truth. However, I won't deign to enlighten you at present moment. We are all too busy waiting for the lost boys to try and rescue you so that we can kill all the children on this god-forsaken island, rather than just their leader." With that, all the grownups walked away and Peter was left with nothing to do but bang on the door some more and break down into tears.

            Where were the lost boys? It had never been _this _hopeless before.

* * * * *

            At the lagoon, the lost boys had found John, and soon all hint of tenuous relations was gone. The boys played together in perfect harmony, never stopping to wonder that Peter had remained in the house in the tree. However, when the sun began to set, John decided that they would get home, and the lost boys followed. 

They returned home, confident to find Peter laying on his hammock, crying. After all, John remembered the time when Margaret had left, and Peter spent days and days in his hammock, crying over the silly mother. However, Peter was nowhere to be seen, and what's more, a rung on the ladder to the house was gone. Something had happened. Just as in any situation, it was of utmost importance that they find Peter immediately. Peter would know what to do. Racing around, they found Xanthippe, and nearly drowned her with questions.

            "Quiet! Quiet, all of you!" she rang, "What is it?"

            The lost boys let out a collective yelp, but no one could articulate their fear. They fell silent, one by one, and looked at John. He said nothing. John was the only one who had calmly stood at the door through all of this, and he remained there, as if frozen. Finally, Beetle spoke up. "Where's Peter?"

            "He's gone?"

            "Yes! Yes, he's missing! Where is he?" shouted the lost boys, all at once.

            Zan flew off, returning a few seconds later, jingling to herself. Finally, to the lost boys, she rang out, loud and clear. "Follow me. We're going to find our mother." Four lost boys and Zan flew off into the setting sun.

            Of course the going was slow, because Peter was not there to show them the way, and the Neverland wanted them to stay there. You see, the island was quite excited about the adventure, and wanted to see how it turned out. However, the island was not very smart. It was of the opinion that a mass exodus of lost boys was not something to be excited about. So it pulled the Lost Boys in, and kept them from getting to the mainland.

            Finally, the boys gave up, and returned to the island. At least that much was easy, but it was now late at night. They returned to the house in the tree, wondering what they were to do. It seemed as if they would have to wait to rescue their leader, but Peter would have enacted an immediate rescue, they were sure of that. However, John was ready and waiting with a plan.

"All the pirates will be sleeping now!" remarked John. "If we're really quiet, we can go and rescue Peter!"

            The boys agreed. There was a good, simple plan. Why had none of them thought of it? 

            It was agreed that Zan and Beetle would stay behind, on shore, Zan because she couldn't put out her light, and Beetle because they were afraid of him tripping and waking pirates.

            And so, the boys carefully boarded the ship and began to look for Peter.

            Now, of course the Pirates were ready and waiting for them. What else could one expect? These pirates were of the same sort that the crew of Captain Jas. Hook was, the type that never abides by the rules. As the boys entered the ship, one by one, they were each stowed in a closet, one by one, and thus trapped. Zan realized something was wrong when the noises began. A shouting went up, a youthful shouting, and a banging of walls. 

            "They're trapped!" she shrilled, and Beetle woke, startled, from a slumber. 

            "Oh no!" he shrieked, and blinked a few times, getting the sleep out of his eyes. "Who's trapped?" he asked.

            Zan paused.

            A gun shot. 

            Silence.

            Zan tugged on Beetle's hair. "Come on! We've _got _to get Katie! She's the only one that knows what to do! Come on!"

            The fairy had complete faith in the girl, as did Beetle. So, grabbing the dagger that the boys had left for them to protect themselves with, Beetle followed Zan, flying into the night. He jammed the dagger into his pocket at the last minute, and ripped the cloth. Oh well, they were going to find their mother; she would be able to fix it. 

* * * * *

            If I were to say that while the lost boys were captured and miserable, Katie was happily going about her business, I would be lying. After one night of happiness, Katie was awoken to the harsh reality that she really hated life in London now. Her mother treated her as if she were about to break, and didn't so much as let her outside the entire day. When she called her friends, the people who had been her friends, they brushed her off, for 'more important things.' She was as miserable as she had ever been.

            Then was her first day back in school. Even though she hadn't noticed that she had forgotten anything, in reality, she had lost nearly a month of education in the time she spent in the Never Land. Her school subjects were impossibly hard, her teachers 'kindly' informed her that there was no chance she would get credit for the class, as her absences went unexcused by the school district, and her friends snubbed her. 

            Apparently, they were of the opinion that she had run off as a harlot, over some whining, pale-faced boy. As much as Katie denied it, they believed it more. When it came down to it, and Katie was not one to lie, she couldn't say that she didn't in fact run away, with a boy, but there was so much more to it that they just didn't understand.

            "He taught me how to fly," she would say, and her friends would glare at her coldly. Even when she did a pirouette in the air, they turned their faces. "He was Peter Pan!" She would exclaim, and they would walk away, leaving her alone, in the hallway, near to tears.

            She ate lunch alone that day, the only person to so much as interrupt her solitude being the janitor, reminding her to clean up after herself. She finished the school day, but didn't bother going to soccer practice. She already knew she had been cut, due to her absence.

            She slunk her way home from the bus stop, tears filling her eyes. The wind picked up and blew cold in her face, and it felt as though her tears would freeze on her cheeks, and remain there until she could somehow work up enough happiness to melt them. She wondered if she ever would be able to. Everyone here disdained her, everyone in the Never Land had probably forgotten about her.

            She wondered if she could still fly. For a moment, she stood motionless, wondering if the cruel world that was now her home had stolen that away from her also. Then, she closed her eyes, and remembered the star she had almost blown out. She remembered the Never Land, and she held tight on to that memory as she let her grasp of the colder, more real world loosen. 

            She felt her feet rise off the pavement, and knew that the one thing that was certain in her life right then was that she had, in fact, been one of the few girls to hear Peter Pan crow while awake, one of the select who had been residents on those magical shores that call themselves the Never Land, and one of the four who had learned how to fly before they grew up. There was some solace in that thought, even if Peter had already forgotten her. There was some solace in the thought that, as childishly forgetful as he might be, there had been a time when he knew her name.

            She would never forget that. She promised herself as much, that, during all the time of her life, she would never forget that she had been Peter's mother. She would never bar her windows. 

            She flew the rest of the way home, not heeding the strange looks from neighbors, the barking dogs, and the gasps her friends gave when she passed them. She turned around in the air, flying backwards for a time and laughing at their shocked faces. What did she need grownup friends for? She was Peter Pan's mother. That was her happy thought. And she would never loose it.

            Some things are permanent. 

Author's Note: Hee hee. I like that ending. It's all pretty and eloquent and stuff. And Katie has a new resolve. News on the rating change: Shall be in chapter 9, probably only to PG-13, but I want to have someone read it to make sure. I'm thinking this will end up being 12 chapters long. Let's see… thanks go out to Elfpilot, Tinker Bell, LeopardDance, and Silvara Wilde for their reviews. For all the rest of you (I hope there is a 'rest of you') please review! Feed the author!


	8. Growing Up

Disclaimer: Peter Pan, and everything recognizable to Peter Pan, belongs to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London, to which Mr. J. M. Barrie bequeathed his copyright when he died, in 1937. I was not even born when this happened and I had nothing to do with the creation of Peter Pan (Although it would be really cool if I had). I am just a lowly fan, and writing this in my own time, not making any money whatsoever. Heh. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

Chapter 8: Growing Up

~~ "Shall we still be respectful subjects of the king?" "You shall have to swear 'Down with the King!'" "Then I refuse!" "And I!" "Rule Britannia!" ~~

            Zan and Beetle flew off at an amazing pace, back to London, to find their mother. However, the Island, being what it was, did not want them to leave. As such, it was a long time of floating amongst the stars before they so much as saw the shadow of the mainland. It wasn't really an unpleasant thing, flying amid the stars, above the ocean, seeing how many shark fins they could tag on their way to London, but they were in a hurry, and didn't want to have an adventure. 

            By the time they finally reached the mainland, nearly a day had passed. It was hard not to think about what might be happening to their companions, but they tried their best to think about the task at hand, and not the boys back on the pirate ship. They had to find Katie.

If they thought at all, which is highly unlikely, they thought that Katie would be sitting on top of Big Ben, waiting to be shown the way back to the Never Land. However, as was to be expected, they were not so lucky. Once they got to London, they had a lot of looking to do to find the girl. 

            Zan thought she remembered the way to Katie's house, having been there not so long ago, but her memory was not so good as it could have been, and the two ended up searching for a good deal longer than they would have liked. It was night, the city was cold, and Beetle was very tired and ready for sleep. However, they were still just wandering around by the ruins of Margaret's flat, and had no idea where to go after that. 

            Beetle and Zan spent a miserable night, shivering in the cold, on top of a burnt out building, wondering where they would find their mother, Katie, to bring her back to the Never Land. 

* * * * *

            Katie's friends were quick to accept her the next day at school, but she suspected ulterior motives. They welcomed her back into their circle, and protected her from Sue's angry glares and snappish comments. Katie, however, felt no more comfortable with them than she had before. 

            The truth came out at lunch, when one of the girls looked away from her boyfriend, to Katie, and asked, "So when are you going to teach us?"

            Katie blinked, confused. "Teach you what?" she asked.

            "To fly, of course," The girl answered, and stood up. "I mean how do you do it? Where are the strings? The magnets?"

            "I don't need strings or magnets to fly!" Katie shouted. "And if you think that I need those things, then you'll never be able to fly yourselves, no matter how hard I might try to teach you!"

            Her 'friends' looked to her. "You're just trying to keep it to yourself, trying to make us look stupid," one of them called out.

            "You're just a stuck-up, conceited, good-for-nothing bitch!" another cried. 

            "We befriended you, and you just hate us for it!"

            "Ungrateful snob!"

            "Selfish harlot!" 

            "Skank!"

            "Slut!"

            "Whore!"

            Katie blinked. They surrounded her. Their angry faces glinting at her with lurid hatred. She turned and ran, no, flew, away from the school and her friends turned once again traitor.

            Once she got to her neighborhood, she slowed to a walk. What good was being Peter's mother when everyone hated her for it? She wished she had never gone to the Never Land, or never come back. She wished that somehow she could befriend her former friends again, but she knew that in all likelihood, there was no way. Some things were permanent, and her friends didn't seem to take this difference between them, that she could fly and they couldn't, as a temporary friction between the two parties. 

            Right then, it seemed an impassable crevasse, a gulf so wide that the other side was invisible. It seemed a barbed wire fence, a hundred feet high and strung with electric wire, impenetrable in every way.

            It was enough to make her break down and cry. 

            Her mother would not accept any excuse as to why she wasn't in school then. Her mother would want her to turn around and march right back to the miserable building. Her mother would want her to grow up. But Katie didn't want any of that. Her steps slowed to a shuffle, and she wondered if she shouldn't just run away, live in Kensington Gardens, with the fairies.

            Only, she knew for one thing that fairies didn't take pity on teenaged girls, wandering about nights in the Gardens. More likely, it was the dealers that did that. 

            All in all, life seemed more and more hopeless by the minute.

            She was a block away from her house when she heard the scream. A little boy, a round ball of fur, fell out of her bedroom window, and floated mid-air. She squinted, wondering what could be going on, and then recognized the little boy. Beetle. They had remembered her.

            She flew the rest of the block, up to her window, and saw Sue swatting at Xanthippe with both hands. Carefully directing Beetle through the open window, she followed, and grabbed her bag. "Zan, what's going on?" she asked.

            The statement in and of itself showed exactly how much thinking she was doing, because she couldn't understand Zan for the life of her, but Zan rang out a reply which Beetle happily translated as, "Peter's been kidnapped, and the lost boys are captured by the pirates! We've got to save them!"

            "They're trapped?" Katie cried in response, forgetting her previous, every-day loyalties, and answering the call of the Never Land. "We've got to save them!" 

            She nearly jumped out the window, but Sue grabbed her hand, looking violent and vindictive. "No," said the younger sister, terrifyingly soft and cold. "You aren't leaving. You're staying here and living with the world you tried to give away. You're growing up, just like I have to, just like any normal person has to."

            Katie tugged at her arm, but Sue didn't let go. She slammed shut the window, and locked it. "You're not leaving unless I can come with," she finished.

            Katie looked to Zan, Beetle, and her sister. Sue was grown up. Sue had decided that she didn't want to be a child. However, Sue apparently had changed her mind, and was now insisting that she be taken, as a child, to the Never Land. Zan flew slowly over, and showered the girl with more pixie dust than was technically necessary. The dangerous look on Sue's face remained.

            "Sue, what are you doing home?" Katie carefully asked. School wasn't out yet.

            "I saw you leaving and guessed something was up, so I called mom and got home before you." Sue glared at her sister. "I'm not letting you leave without me this time."

            Katie nodded, shakily, only now understanding the full meaning of the situation. Sue had a frantic look in her eyes; a look that Katie knew meant that her sister wasn't thinking. Sue had lost her pretense of childhood that day, and she wanted it back. Sue didn't want the responsibility that came with adulthood. After all, who would?

            However, as much as Sue acted like a little child, she wasn't a child anymore. There was no getting around the fact that Sue was a grownup. However, one could always try.

            "Now, think wonderful thoughts, and you'll float," reasoned Katie cautiously. Sue squinted, evidently trying to find a happy thought. "Just hold on to that thought, and let go," Katie coaxed.   

            Beetle floated about the ceiling, and Katie longed to join him, but she knew that flying herself would only postpone their escape to the Never Land. Sue closed her eyes, and whispered a name. She jumped into the air.

            Katie could see it coming, her sister leaning onto thin air as she jumped forward. She could see her sister begin to fall, but she stood, transfixed, watching as her sister tumbled through the air and landed, flat on her stomach, on the floor. She winced. Sue was motionless for a moment. It was a long moment, a moment that stretched out to infinity before and after.

            Katie gulped, but her sister moved. "It… Didn't… Work." Her voice was colder, if possible, and angrier, than before. She stood up shakily now with the shield of her wounded pride in addition to her previous armament of jealousy and anger. Sue glared at Beetle, Zan, and Katie, as if they were convicted murderers deserving of the death penalty.

            "You will never leave," she said, "You will never leave because I won't let you. Katie is staying right here, and growing up, just like I have to. I won't let you leave, not if I have to stay here."

            And then, to make sure that they didn't sneak away during the night, Sue sat down at the foot of Katie's bed, and waited, awake, until dawn. 

* * * * *

            The pirates were gloating over their victory, in front of the captured lost boys. Surely, Smee was the most fearsome, despicable, and generally nauseating captain that had ever floated a dinghy on any of the seven seas. They were proud underlings of such an undoubtedly evil man.

            Now if only he could be taught to wipe his sword rather than his glasses, after a fight. That was his only weakness, and not much of one in the eyes of his fearful dogs. After all, if he was the only man Hook feared, he was certainly a fearsome man after all. 

            It was perhaps fortunate that Smee now did his hemming in the dead of night. 

            Of course, the boys had a very different opinion of Smee than did the dogs, and they were rapidly growing to not mind being imprisoned under such a man as Smee. Whenever he so much as neared the captive boys, they called out his name in joy, and although he would hit them with the flat of his hand in rebuke, they loved him. He was still unable to use his fist against a child. Smee had, after all, very good form. 

            It had been the one reason Hook had contemplated killing the poor Irish bo'sun. 

            Being of good form, Smee had deemed it necessary to first offer the boys a way out of their deaths, that is, to offer them positions as cabin boys on the pirate ship. Hook had offered the previous group positions, he remembered, and why therefore shouldn't he?

            It was for this reason that the boys were lined up on deck, in front of a table, and their chains removed. Smee smiled, evilly. He quite thought himself the slimiest wretch in the entire ocean at that moment. The boys stood politely in a line, smiling and making the best impression they could on Smee. After all, Peter had said, first impressions were important, and this was really the first time they had seen him outside of the hold.

            "You boys can count yourselves lucky," Smee growled, trying to scare the wide grins off of the boys' faces, and failing miserably. He had a sinking feeling that there was a possibility that the boys weren't terribly afraid of him. He didn't know where he got it, but it was there, nagging him at the bottom of his gut. However, he continued, hoping that they would be terrified of him with certainty before the day was out. "You are being offered a choice. You can either sign on to the crew, or you can walk the plank!"

            The boys gulped at the mention of the plank, but said nothing. Smee looked them over, choosing the eldest. "You, boy," he called to John. "Surely you have wanted to be a pirate? This is your chance!"

            It is certainly ironic that John's namesake be faced with the same quandary that the original boy did. We can only hope that this John behaves with more decorum than did his predecessor. "I… at times I have, sir," John replied. It was a fact; some days while swimming in the mermaid lagoon he had fancied him a pirate with a huge ship, and a crew to obey him. "I have imagined myself a pirate named Black Eyed Bill, at times." 

            Now, Peter over heard all of this, still locked up and witnessing the scene, and he let out a cry of the most terrible variety, assuring himself that he would banish John as soon as he got out of this mess. After all, it just did not do to have a lost boy who wanted to be a pirate.

            However, Smee was speaking again. "Well, and we shall call you that, certainly!"

            John looked greatly pleased at this, but he heard his captain's cry, and he was suddenly caught between two very harsh predicaments. On the one hand, remain a lost boy forever and bow down to Peter Pan, and on the other hand, become a pirate and make a life for himself but face the peril of a fight with his leader. Then again, it wasn't so harsh a predicament at all; he could beat Peter. What did Pan have that he didn't, after all? 

            "You shall?" he asked. The pirates certainly did seem to have bested the boys. Here was a way out, to prove that he was as good as Peter at anything, to live when Peter died.

            Smee chortled. "Why, of course, boy! Now, come and sign your name, here, in the book!" And Smee pointed to the register, for John to sign.

            Shakily, John walked up to the register, and held a quavering hand onto the paper. To be honest, he didn't know for sure how to write his name. He looked up at Smee, uncertain. If this required writing, he wasn't sure if he could do it. After all, it wasn't really worth it, was it? And what if Peter won? Did he really want to be a pirate?

            Starkey, seeing the look of fear in his face, stepped forward. "You seem like a reasonable boy," he said. John was taken aback. As much as Smee was a lovable character, Starkey ignited fear in the boys to the greatest degree. John quavered and stepped back. "Why, you're larger than that Pan is, aren't you?" John smiled, he was. "I'd say you could take him in a fight. Why do you hail him as your leader, anyway? Here we can teach you things you don't know, teach you how to be a real man!" John grinned wider. That was what he wanted, to be a man. Not any of this boyish nonsense.

            "Sir, how do I spell John?" he asked, now sure of himself. This was the way to greatness, to adulthood.

            "J-O-H-N," replied Starkey, fully expecting that the boy wouldn't know how to spell the name.

            "And how to I make the letters?" John grasped the quill with muted excitement.

            Smee bent over, and carefully guided John's hand in the fashioning of his name. Four capital letters, wobbly but legible, filled up half the page. John laughed. It was a cruel, loathsome laugh, as of one fully acquainted with the art of being a pirate.

            The lost boys stared, in shock. "John!" Dows cried. "John, you can't be a pirate! You're a lost boy!"

            But the traitor turned back on his former compatriots. "I'm no lost boy, no longer will I follow Peter Pan! I'm a pirate now! And my name isn't John! It's Black Eyed Bill!" He growled at the lost boys, as he shrank into the mass of pirates behind their captain.

            Peter cried in astonishment, and anger, and slammed anew at the bars in front of his cage, and John, or Black Eyed Bill, sneered at him from outside. 

            None of the other boys budged. Their companion's betrayal had cemented their opinions of piracy, and they were all of the opinion that all the pirates should die painful and horrifying deaths. 

            "To the plank!" yelled Black Eyed Bill, from amidst the ranks, as none of the boys stepped forward to be next appointed cabin boy. "Make 'em walk the plank!" It is fearsome to note that he was already the most gruesome and violent of the bunch.

            However, Smee hadn't the heart to make those three helpless boys walk the plank without so much as a night to think over their decision not to become pirates, and so he growled back towards his potential cabin boys, "You have chosen death. Think over your choice, for if you do not reconsider, off the plank with you, come morning!"

            His crew protested, they were looking forward to the death of the children, but he left, and they pushed and rough-handled the boys back into the hold, snarling and cursing at them all along the way. Daisy whimpered, Dows fought back, and Tobby yelped, but they were all alone in the end, and as night fell, they contemplated their death.

            After all, what else was there to do? Surely they couldn't go against their leader, and join the pirates. After all, Peter Pan was the greatest boy ever to live. But if they didn't betray Peter, then they would die at sunrise.

            And so they slept fitfully, trying not to think of their deaths.

A/N: I'm back! Aren't you surprised? * nervous laughter * In any case, what with the musical and then AP exams and lots of other stuff, I lost track of this story, only recently picking it up again and thinking; "Why am I not writing this?" So… The prodigal author returns. I've written the rating-changer chapter (next one) and it will be PG-13… and I'll probably get a lot of complaints at the end of it but I've had it planned out since the beginning, so… yeah. In any case, thanks to Marina, who was the only one to review chapter seven so far. 


	9. The Battle

Disclaimer: Peter Pan, and everything recognizable to Peter Pan, belongs to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London, to which Mr. J. M. Barrie bequeathed his copyright when he died, in 1937. I was not even born when this happened and I had nothing to do with the creation of Peter Pan (Although it would be really cool if I had). I am just a lowly fan, and writing this in my own time, not making any money whatsoever. Heh. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

Chapter 9: The Battle 

_~~ "To die would be an awfully big adventure" ~~_

            The boys were rudely awakened the next morning, at dawn, and brought before Smee, to see if they had changed their minds overnight. Of course, they had not, and Daisy starkly refused. "I shall never be a pirate!" he shouted, hoping that Peter heard him and was proud. "I refuse! What about you, Tobby?"

            "I shall never be a pirate!" repeated Tobby. "What about you, Dows?"

            "I shall never be a pirate!" called Dows. Starkey silenced the three boys with an angry glare. He and the other pirates had had enough of this, although Smee still believed that they should give the boys another chance to save themselves.

            "Dogs, get the plank!" called Starkey before Smee could start another attempt to convert the boys, and the pirates cheered, Black-eyed Bill loudest of all. As the plank was put into place, three of the crew clapped iron weights onto the boys' wrists, ensuring that they would sink straight to the bottom.

            As brave as those three children were, the sight of the plank put butterflies in their bellies and turned their feet to stone. The pirates edged them towards the grim plank, that last step on the road of their lives.

            The boys lined up, Daisy first. He couldn't hope he looked brave and manly, he didn't hope anything at all, every thought had been purged from his mind by the ghastly spectacle of the plank, and the even worse prospect of death. These would be his last steps, his very last steps. What was it that Peter always said when it looked like he would die? It had been such a long time since he had said it – Daisy wasn't entirely sure Peter had ever confronted death before, or at least, not with Daisy.

            What was it? The last time Daisy had heard it said he had felt some strange sort of power surge through him – power to meet whatever death he was to have with calm thought and reason. To die would be an awfully big adventure. That was it. But even if death were an awfully big adventure, Daisy would rather have a bunch of smaller ones. Because death wasn't just a big adventure, it was the last adventure. Daisy swallowed and clutched what he remembered of his happy thought as he took his final steps. Maybe he could float or swim to shore. No one had ever done that that he could think of, and the weights hanging from his wrists forbade it, pulling him down even now. He gulped again.

            That was when he saw the Injuns, on the shore, swimming silently to the ship. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything to do to postpone his fall, just so that the indians would get there in time to rescue Peter and the boys. He wouldn't move. The pirates swarmed behind him, jabbing at him and pushing him, but he would not move. 

            His resolution was enough. The Piccaninnies boarded the ship.

            The pirates were taken by surprise as a wave of fierce warriors poured over the side of the ship, but to their credit, or disservice, they met the onslaught with boldness and cold steel. Caught in the center were the two remaining lost boys, weighted down and weaponless, as chaos ruled around them. Piccaninny warriors swarmed everywhere. Peter shouted encouragement from his cage, and the boys did their best to aid in the fight. Tobby swung the weight out and tripped a pirate up, Dows got a key off the body of a dead pirate and unlocked his manacles, to grab a sword and run at the pirates shouting his most fearsome cry. Soon enough Tobby found Dows and lost his manacles as well.

            Daisy was off of the plank as fast as he could get, and breathing again. Dows threw him a set of keys and he didn't even think of himself, running over to Peter instead. He tried at the door, pulling against the weight on his wrists to put a key in the lock and open the door, but he couldn't even lift his hands with the weights tying them down and soon enough he found that this made him more of a hindrance than a help in the battle, and cowered in the sidelines, hoping not to get run through by an errant blade.

            Tiger Lily fought through the crowd of pirates, slowly and painfully making her way to Peter. If anyone could cement her victory, it was Peter Pan. She found Daisy, took the keys, and quickly unlocked the cage. She nervously reached for the latch, looking around before she turned to open the door. She only turned her back to the fight for a second, a moment.

            But a second was enough. An arm flashed in front of her, pulling her back violently just before she could let the boy out. She kicked out behind her, but it was no use. Her attacker knew how her braves fought, he knew what her next move would be. That was impossible; no pirate could understand the workings of the mind of one of the Picaninnies, least of all their warrior princess.

            Wait; Starkey. He had spent years upon years tending papooses, an insider in the camp. Starkey kicked the door shut and latched and relocked it with one hand, not letting go of Tiger Lily with the other. She hadn't made a sound in all this time. Battle went on all around her, her braves valiantly fighting. She struggled against Starkey, but it was of little use.

            She was roughly dragged out onto the plank, and from above the grip he had around her neck and head, she could vaguely see the ocean far below. She stopped struggling, not sure of her balance on the thin board. A gunshot rang out, right above her head. 

            The braves, the boys, and the pirates turned to find Starkey standing on the morbid plank, holding a smoking gun in his right hand, and worse, the Picaninny princess in a headlock with his left arm. A hush passed through the crowd.

            "Piccaninny warriors!" shouted Starkey. "Leave, abandon the boys, or Princess Tiger Lily walks the plank!"

            The warriors were bold fighters, and brave, but their honor and their love of their princess outweighed all of that, and each knew in the pregnant silence what he would do. After all, there was no way through water to the happy hunting ground. Princess Tiger Lily must not be drowned. The sound of one knife blade hitting the ground was quickly accompanied by many, as every Injun brave chose his princess over his friendship with the lost boys, and climbed back down to his canoe. 

            The lost boys understood, after all, if Peter had been there instead of Tiger Lily, they would have done the same thing. But a tear ran down Daisy's face nonetheless. He would be the first to die now, as he was the only one whose hands were still weighed down. Silence reigned. The indians were leaving, the pirates had their success – the lost boys, and most of all, Peter Pan. Only one thought ran through the minds of the braves; "At least Tiger Lily will be safe."

            But they all should have known not to trust a pirate. Especially not such a pirate as Starkey, who served under James Hook, the only man that Barbecue feared. Starkey still had a firm grip of the princess and she still bore the stoic expression of a defeated leader. She looked fondly at Peter, or tired to, but he was pressed hopelessly against the bars of his cage in fear.

            Starkey loosened his grip of the Princess, letting her go. Shakily, she walked towards the ship, off of the plank. The lost boys, and the indians, breathed. But then Starkey lowered his pistol, arm still straight out, and only to shoulder height. He shot, hitting the Princess square in the back of the head.

            Her head knocked forward and then backwards in rebound, and her back arched as she fell to the ground, sending out a spray of blood. The ship rang with the shot, but all else was silent as the great, proud, beautiful Tiger Lily fell. She lay limp and motionless, a step from the ship and presumed safety.

            He took a step towards the ship, and, finding her in his way, kicked her aside. 

            Down her body tumbled, into the waves and the dark waters. Her braves, every one enamored of her, froze in their canoes. They were going to attack, unleash the pure fury of revenge, but Starkey was already at the canons. He pulled a fuse and one exploded with a resounding _boom, _sinking three canoes in one shot. 

            The braves, fearing more loss of life, paddled a hasty retreat to the shores of the island. Tiger Lily, fortunately, had died in battle. She floated up the river, away to the happy hunting ground. It was little solace for her unfortunate braves, but it was something.

            The lost boys were crying, and Smee took pity, demanding that they be chained and locked up, not killed. But he had long ago lost control over his dogs, and Starkey pressed the crew to make all three boys walk the plank. They pulled Daisy out from the crowd and again set him up on the end of the grim board. He heard jeers behind him. He would have to move eventually.

            It had been such a valiant effort, to be turned aside with so little effect. But so it was, and Daisy tried to remember something of the safety of the battle on the ship, now that he was returned to the plank. To die would be an awfully great adventure, right? "Walk!" shouted a voice that was familiar, Black-eyed Bill, or John, jeering loudly from the crowd. Maybe John had betrayed them; this was his idea – sneaking on the ship. The plan had been simple, too simple. But Daisy didn't think that far in advance, and he doubted even John could. "Walk!" came another voice.

            One step. Daisy felt the tip of a sword at his back. His breathing picked up. His palms froze. He couldn't move his feet, couldn't will them to move. Why couldn't he just fly away? The manacles were those for a man – they barely stayed on his wrists as it was, and the sweat on his palms was lubricant enough to let go of them. Slowly they slid off his hands. One, then two crashed into the ocean below with a dull splash. He breathed a sigh of relief and tried to take off. He wasn't chained to the ship, why couldn't he lift into the air and fly off, just as had been so easy before? Where were his wings? A sword jabbed at his back, biting into the flesh. He took a faltering step forward. Why couldn't he fly?

Two steps. Daisy stood, shakily, on the edge of the ship, not wanting to go any farther. He wanted to go back and say he'd be a pirate, say anything as long as he wouldn't have to walk the plank. This was terror beyond belief. He couldn't breathe any more, only stand mute and petrified, staring at the water far below. He looked behind him, searching for Peter, now tied to the main mast to watch all his boys die. Daisy looked forlornly at his leader, and Peter tried to escape the ropes and fly over to him, save him. Daisy swallowed. Peter would be brave. Peter would not be afraid of death. To die would be an awfully big adventure. He turned, and took another step forward.

Three steps. Daisy was on the brink of death, his toes hanging over the edge of the plank. A shout rose out amongst the pirates behind him, _jump, jump, jump._ He stared at the water. He tried to breathe. He couldn't. Peter would be brave, Peter wouldn't fear death. Death was an awfully big adventure. Just another adventure. He had lost his happy thought, but that was okay. He would find it again, find it at some point in this next adventure. He was going on an adventure, the adventure to end all adventures. 

The chant rose to a tumult, and Tobby and Dows stood, shivering and shaking, on the deck, terrified of when they would be forced to walk the plank. Daisy couldn't hear anything. He was beyond reach, a dead boy walking. He lifted his chin. He found his will, and took a deep, shaking, breath. He prepared to speak, and even Black-eyed Bill went silent. "I'm not afraid," he called out, to his companions and fellow lost boys. "To die, that would be an awfully big adventure." The pirates fell silent, now watching the strange, honorable boy as he stood, proud and tall, at the end of the plank.

Daisy didn't step off the plank; he jumped. He threw his body outwards, away from the ship, arms flung out as if to fly, head thrown back, graceful and beautiful in a strange, painful, way. He plunged through the air, and hit the water with a sickening slap, and at that moment, the boys and the pirates were all at the edge of the boat, looking for the boy who would fly away, be safe, that strange, brave boy, who would come to the rescue of Peter and his friends. Black-eyed Bill was mute in horror and a tear ran down Smee's eye to see the passing of such a beautiful sight. All eyes were on the water for the rebirth, the phoenix-boy. 

But no such boy appeared. Daisy was in the water, a hundred feet away from the ship, struggling against the current. His head was still flung back, but it was twisted strangely, an act of desperation, mouth wide open, gaping for air. His arms were flung out to the sides, but there was no grace in their current position, as he flapped them up and down, trying to grip on the ungraspable water. He struggled, gasping for breath and making no sound, and then went under for a moment. A sob emanated from Tobby, and Dows shuddered.

When he resurfaced, Daisy was choking from the water that had forced its way into his lungs. Still flailing his arms to and fro, still thrusting his face upwards for breath, he struggled against the certain doom, until he finally slipped under the water one final time. The surface went still.

His body floated there, face down, arms dangling, motionless, as everyone looked on. Then Tobby let out a terrible shriek, and would have dove in after his friend, had not Dows held him back. The two boys burst into tears, seeing their companion, so brave in his last moments, floating there inert in the ocean. Daisy's body began to sink, leaving only a stray flower, having forfeited its home in his hair during his mad struggle for breath and life.

* * * * *

Katie only survived the day in school by telling herself that she could rush home and escape. It was as miserable as before, perhaps more so because she now knew that the boys needed her in the Never Land. She couldn't tell anyone, no one would believe her. What would she say anyway? There are four little boys on a pirate ship who will be killed if I don't go and rescue them? Pirates didn't even exist anymore, and even when they had existed, they only captured other vessels, no small children. She would be the laughing stock of the school.

As if that would be much worse than the current situation. She considered it, finding the intercom and shouting over it the plight of the lost boys. She sat alone during lunch, poking at her food and not eating it. She tried to remember the lost boys, but she couldn't. What were their names? John, Daisy, Beetle, and Dows? No, there was one missing.

John, Beetle, Dows, and Tobby? Still, there was one missing.

Beetle, Tobby, Daisy, and Dows? Oh, and John. John, Beetle, Tobby, Daisy, and Dows. Or was it Dobby and Tows? No, she would have remembered if one of them had the same name as a character from Harry Potter. It wasn't Dobby. It must be Tobby and Dows. 

But what did that help her? What did they look like? What would they do when she came to rescue them? Where would they be on the pirate ship? 

How could she rescue them if the pirates had captured Peter too?

Smee was their captain, what would make him decide to set the lost boys free? Who was Smee, where was his weakness?

Smee was the irish bo'sun, that she remembered. Grandmother Margaret had told her that Smee was the only pirate that the lost boys found lovable. He had offered great-great-grandmother Wendy freedom, if she would be his mother. He killed without offense, named his weapons, wiped his glasses and not his sword, and he wanted a mother so very much.

Was that a way around to it? Could she promise to be Smee's mother to save the lost boys? 

But when it came down to it, the very thought of selling out her rather dubious services as a mother to a bloodthirsty pirate in order to save even those dear boys was repulsive. She would have to fight, and she would have to win. But why would Smee even deign to fight her?

Maybe this blackmail, this promise to be Smee's mother, could be a way to get a fair fight. It was the best idea Katie had. In all likelihood, she would still not be able to win in a fair fight, but it was worth trying, and the only chance that she had. It was the only chance that the lost boys had.

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, it's a rather heavy chapter to write and I guess that shows itself. I had to reorganize it several times, but I like this version the best so far (or else I wouldn't have posted it.) Also I got sidetracked by original and Harry Potter stuff, mostly not posted. In any case, expect more frequent posting from this point on, I have a lot already written but this was definitely the hardest chapter to write. Please review, it makes me happy.


	10. John's Revelation

Disclaimer: Peter Pan, and everything recognizable to Peter Pan, belongs to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London, to which Mr. J. M. Barrie bequeathed his copyright when he died, in 1937. I was not even born when this happened and I had nothing to do with the creation of Peter Pan (Although it would be really cool if I had). I am just a lowly fan, and writing this in my own time, not making any money whatsoever. Heh. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it. 

Chapter 10: John's Revelation 

­~_~ "There's none can save you now, missy," "There's one," "Who's that?"~~_

            Katie decided that she would have to bargain with Smee for a fair fight. It was the only way to win, or at least the only way to win that she could think of. Although it posed serious consequences if she lost; imagine being mother to him for her life. And she wasn't even sure if he would bargain with her. Still, some plan was better than no plan at all.

            But there was one thing certain: whether she was going to be fighting Smee, or not fighting Smee, she had to somehow get to the Never land or all would be lost. And she had to do it today – the sooner, the better. Which would pose serious problems if Sue could reach her room before her. 

            Katie would have to be slick about this. She couldn't let Sue know she was going to leave until she was on the bus and away from any telephone to call her mother. Katie took the bus, sat in the front, started to slowly walk home until Sue was suitably off guard. She heard her sister laughing with friends, and then she broke into a run.

            Katie got about a ten second head start before Sue saw her and chased after her, leaving her friends behind. Katie was determined – and usually a faster runner – but Sue was somehow catching up, her rage driving her.

            Katie saw that running was getting her nowhere. She needed to gain speed, and she needed to do so quickly. She flung herself into a racing dive, realizing that, even if it did bring attention to her, flying was faster and faster was necessary. 

She took every shortcut she knew of, as well as a few she made up, to fly into her window with only seconds to spare. She grabbed her duffle bag, already packed from the previous night's planning, and pulled a very surprised Beetle out the window with her. 

            Zan followed, just out the window when Katie slammed it shut and they heard a scream below them. Sue was running down the block, out of breath. Katie was paralyzed with the shock of the scream, and before she knew it Sue was standing at the door. 

            "NO!" Sue shouted, her voice piercing Katie's ears and paralyzing her again. "You can't! I won't let you! Katie, come down here this instant or I swear I will never let you in again! Never, you hear me?" Katie's head was still ringing, from the shock of the scream.

            She found her arms, and her legs, slowly, as Sue stood frozen beneath her. Finally, when the shock had subdued and Katie could move again, she turned to look down at her sister. This formidable foe now seemed only a bug to be squashed, pitiful. And Katie had to get going or all would be lost. "I have to help them, Sue. They need me. I have to save them."

            "Do you think I care about some make believe boys on a story book island?" Sue snapped. Her voice was less shocking and more plaintive. "You have to come back, you have to go to school and grow up and live life like a normal person, not some… some… some freak from a fairy tale!" Sue began to cry. "You know what they say about you, and if your reputation is ruined, it ruins mine too, no one respects me if my sister is off running about with some boy, and even if they knew the truth it wouldn't be much different. You have to stay here, for me… I'll never go to prom if they think I'm just some loose slut… If you leave, I won't let you in again."

            Katie shook her head, sadly. "I don't have to stay here, especially not for you. I have to save the lost boys, now. I have to save my real family. No one else can help them. If you won't let me in, then… You won't let me in." And with that, she turned her back on her sister's protesting sobs.

* * * * *

            It was only afternoon, but the island was on the lookout for the children anyway, and the trip back to the Never land was shorter than any trip had ever been. Katie, Beetle and Zan rushed to Peter and the boys' aid.  They were directly above the pirate ship before they knew it, as the sun was setting and the (Two. Why were there only two?) lost boys were herded into a cabin. Beetle wanted to fly down immediately and rescue them, but Katie grabbed his arm and pointed out his foolishness. They waited, while one by one the pirates turned in for the night, and blew their lights out. They waited while the pirates drank and cavorted, until the sound of their wretched signing died into the soft scratch-scratch-scratch of the crickets. 

            Katie sent Beetle and Zan to get the lost boys, or whoever was left of their number, and went herself to rescue Peter. The three parted without a word. It was to be a quick rescue: just get in and get out, don't worry about the pirates.

            It was pitch dark when Katie floated down towards Peter's cage. Peter saw her and he nearly yelped for joy, the combination of seeing his mother returned and his (now certain in his opinion) freedom being too much for him. But Katie put a hand over his mouth and he soon calmed down enough to hold his tongue. She flipped open the latch and opened the door, allowing Peter to extricate himself. 

            But as she pushed open the door, the hinge let out a loud, dry, squeak. The echoes ricocheted off the water, breaking the cool silence of the night. No one could sleep through that. Peter and Katie froze in place, waiting for the inevitable doom. 

* * * * *

            Meanwhile, Beetle and Zan had freed the other two lost boys and were hurrying to their leaders' aide. They could all fly away and leave these pirates to themselves, be home and safe finally, and they tumbled down the hallway and out the door to the deck. They made the noise of a pack of rampaging elephants, but couldn't tell, all reason erased by their joy at freedom. But one noise was loud enough to stop even that pack of wild elephants.

            They froze in place, upon hearing the screech of the hinge. No one breathed. A light flickered on, and the red face of an angry, drowsy pirate was clearly visible. Tobby, not knowing what else to do, quietly stole up on him as the pirate searched his corner of the ship for intruders, pulled out a small knife, and stabbed him, square in the gut. The pirate let out a mighty yowl and a tremendous thump as he fell to the ground, because after all a stab wound doesn't kill instantly, and lights flickered on all over the ship. 

            There was a roar of enraged pirates. The fight had begun. 

            The pirates might be vicious, but half of them were also drunk, and all of them were tired from a long day's work on the ship. They tottered to and fro, in search of their weapons, and due to this sloth four or five were killed before they could even attack the agile boys.

            The boys were alert, ready, and riding on the adrenaline of their escape. They outwitted the pirates with sheer energy, moving from offensive to defensive to offensive again without pausing for breath in between. They tossed out comments to the pirates, to each other, to the air, as if they hadn't a care in the world. As if this was the easiest battle they had yet come upon.

Of course being able to fly didn't hurt. 

            Each boy took down at least three pirates that day, making a clean sweep of the crew. At the end of the battle, no pirate was stirring, if any were alive. Peter ran five through, or so he told Katie. Although in truth it is more likely that he went in search of Starkey first. He had a score to settle with Starkey. 

            The fight between Peter and Starkey was certainly no less legendary than the fight between Peter and Hook. However, Starkey was nowhere near the swordsman that Captain James Hook was, and so it was significantly shorter. Peter caught the poor man trying to escape on a dingy. 

            "Come up here and fight!" yelled Peter. Starkey, a look of terror in his eyes, complied, drawing his sword.

            Peter waited for Starkey to gain good footing on the ship before drawing his sword. "Have at thee," he called.

            Swords clanged. The lost boys finished off their last pirates and came to watch their leader, enthralled. "Pan," Starkey whispered, "Pan, have mercy on an old tender of papooses, have mercy on me."

            Peter's eyes narrowed. "You killed Tiger Lily. You are no keeper of papooses."

            "Oh, but I was," Starkey intoned, "for years and years and years I watched over their babies without a care in the world, and I want to return to it. Peter, let me return to it, please."

            "You couldn't return to that village, they would scalp you there. The indians are desperate for scalps, you know."

            Starkey gulped, and said nothing.

            A thought dawned on Peter. The old man was shaking from fear. He laughed. "You old coward, you're scared of me! Why, I could fight you with my eyes closed!" and he promptly closed his eyes. Starkey, now desperate, lunged at the boy. 

            Peter must have heard Starkey's heavy footstep, for his eyes flickered open the slightest of seconds, and he parried the oncoming blow, and thrusted in his turn, catching Starkey across the stomach. Peter opened his eyes and saw the slash in Starkey's shirt and the gash in his side. He grinned and adjusted his grip on his sword before closing his eyes again, this time lunging almost immediately.

            Starkey was shocked – he was having a hard time even fighting this blinded Peter. That is - until he stepped to the left, and left Peter fighting with the air. Peter opened his eyes just as Starkey crept up behind him, ready to strike as the boy looked around curiously. "Starkey, where did you--" 

            It was all he could get out, when Starkey's yelp alerted him to the exact whereabouts of his opponent. Starkey had been pulled backwards with incredible force, straight by his ear. Peter spun around, shut his eyes and jumped forward, neatly impaling Starkey. Zan squeezed out from underneath a toppled Starkey and all eyes turned to the only remaining pirate onboard. 

            Katie was standing on the foredeck, rusted dagger in hand, opposite Smee. Peter flew up as fast as he could, shouting that he would kill Smee.

            Katie shook her head. "No, Peter, I can take care of him," she answered, turning to her own opponent. "A fair duel?"

            "A fair duel," he answered, tossing a sword to her; one that wasn't falling apart. "And if you lose, you will be my mother?"

            "Yes. But if you lose, you must leave here forever, and promise never to bother anyone again." 

            Smee nodded, and the fight began.

            The rotund little man wasn't much of a swordsman, but then again neither was Katie who had scarcely picked up a sword in her life. Even able to fly, she was scarecly able to dodge his blows, and in a few minutes the fact that her cheek was bleeding, and that it would probably leave a scar, was the least of her worries. Of course, Smee was little better off. They floundered at each other's parries and thrusts, unsure of themselves and of their weapons. 

Fortunately, Katie was a fast learner, and was able to get some rudimentary strategy before she was too tired out. It was all decided by who could fly. Katie dodged a killing blow by jumping into the air and staying there, receiving only a slice on her leg, and dove down on top of Smee, pinning him to the ground, keeping a firm hold of his sword arm, shaking the sword out of his hand.

He tried to get up, to reach his sword, but she held her own to his throat, and he was motionless.

            "I win," she said, grimly.

            Smee croaked out a raspy "Yes."

Katie got up. After a moment so did he. "Now, you leave," she whispered, and turned to the lost boys, receiving them in a huge, motherly embrace. In that moment Smee showed his true ways. After all, a pirate is a pirate, and a pirate who served under James Hook is a fearsome, treacherous creature indeed.

            He lunged towards Katie's back, ready to run her through, but found him self already run through – on Peter's dagger. Slowly, he slid to the floor, and was forgotten. 

            Katie didn't know a thing, and for once, Peter said nothing of his daring deed. 

            A voice came out from the darkest corner of the pirate ship. "Peter, forgive me," it said. A boy stepped out. It was John, bloody and terrified, but John nonetheless. 

            Katie started over to him, but Tobby clutched to her sleeve, and shook his head fiercely when she looked back at him. Peter was left to speak. "You are growing up."

            John's terror changed to panic. "No, no, I'm not growing up. I will never grow up, I--"

            Peter stopped him. "What happens to lost boys who want to grow up? Lost boys who want to do things like become pirates or _businessmen _or **_lawyers_**? They are exiled."

            "But, Peter, I have no where to go, no where but here, and I--"

            "If you have no where to go then that is not our problem. Perhaps you can find refuge at some other island. But not here. Go back to the mainland, John."

            "But, Peter,"

            "Go."

            He looked so forlorn, standing there and begging Peter to give him another chance, that Katie wanted to go to him even more than ever, but with Tobby and Dows holding her sleeves, there was little she could do. "I've forgotten how to fly," he said. "I can't fly."

            Peter didn't flinch, didn't break eye contact with the desperate boy. "Then swim."

            John's jaw trembled, and a tear fell across his cheek. "If I have to leave, I won't leave without taking you with me," he shouted, running at Peter, sword outstretched. Peter didn't move. John slowed and missed his target, slicing Peter's shoulder but leaving him mostly unharmed, and stood, shaking. He was a few inches taller than Peter, and he looked down at the other boy, as a tear rolled down Peter's face. Peter hadn't expected John to do that. Peter felt betrayed, again. John dropped his sword. He saw his dream, Peter defeated and him flying away victorious, and he knew that it would never happen. He couldn't defeat this boy, this innocent boy. He collapsed into tears. "Please, please, Peter. Let me stay. I'm not a grownup, I promise, I'll never be a grownup, I'll never grow up, never never, never, never…"  

            Peter only shook his head, and Beetle was the one to go to John. In his tiniest voice, he whispered, "Don't worry, John, you'll be happier there. It might be scary, but if you don't leave, you'll just stay one of us. You always said you dreamed of being something big someday. You can't here. If you go, then you can."

            John's sobs stopped, and he turned to Beetle and smiled, giving the small child as tight a hug as he could. "A bigger adventure," he mumbled. "Beetle, you'll forgive me for calling you names? Every child does need a mother,"

            "You called me names?" Beetle asked, innocently looking up. He had honestly already forgotten about the incident in the lagoon. John smiled weakly, and stood up, bowing to Peter.

            "A great adventure," he whispered. "The great adventure." He began to walk away, and the last thing any of the lost boys heard John say was "The only adventure."

            The pirates had let down all the lifeboats in hope of escape, and their bodies lay, filling the boats with blood.

            The only way off the ship, unless you could fly, was the plank.

            None of the boys, or Katie, could bear to look.

* * * * *

            And after all that, they were finally ready to go home. Katie looked around, and saw Smee, dead, behind her. She looked to Peter, who said nothing. She supposed that if he wanted to say anything, he would have said it. But perhaps that was nothing special to him.

            Katie took care to wash every boy's cuts and scrapes that night, and bind them up with a tee shirt she had brought from home. One tee shirt went a very long way with young boys. She didn't even bother to send them to bed, let them stay up as late as they wanted, telling her all about everything that had happened, from when she left to the fight with the pirates. And tell her they did.

            It was later than she would like to imagine when they were asleep, splayed out on the floor, and she calmly collected the two remaining boys and tucked them into their cot. There had been a time when if one boy wanted to roll over, all the boys would have to, but they had space now. There was enough space for two small boys.

            She turned to Peter, expecting to hear more stories, but finding his head cocked to the side, asleep, arms splayed out haphazardly, falling off of his fatherly chair. Smiling, she picked him up and placed him gently in his hammock before returning to her own and falling, quickly, to sleep.  

Author's Note: So. One more chapter after this one. It's already written. Expect that soon enough. Fun times. 


	11. Some Things are Permanent

Disclaimer: Peter Pan, and everything recognizable to Peter Pan, belongs to the Great Ormond Street Hospital in London, to which Mr. J. M. Barrie bequeathed his copyright when he died, in 1937. I was not even born when this happened and I had nothing to do with the creation of Peter Pan (Although it would be really cool if I had). I am just a lowly fan, and writing this in my own time, not making any money whatsoever. Heh. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

Chapter 11: Some things are Permanent

­~_~All children, except **two, **grow up~~_

            Many moons had passed since then, many moons had passed since that last battle with the pirates, and after Tiger Lily's death the indians had gotten restless and now threatened the boys more than ever before, more than even before Peter and Tiger Lily's tenuous pact of friendship. Several more lost boys had died in their games, and several more had come, and all in all life was just as it always had been in the Never Land. 

            Katie had set up a hammock across from Peter's, and adorned the wall of the little house with various accoutrements of her previous life, the life that she could barely remember. Here was hung a poster for a stage show she had seen, there were the several hats she had haphazardly thrown into her duffle when she flew away. And under her hammock was the duffle, full now of animal skins to make new clothing, new pockets, out of. 

            After all, all the lost boys had to have them. She had gotten very good at sewing pockets. Every now and then, between swimming in the lagoon and hunting indians and flying up to blow out the stars (she finally got one, but she couldn't remember when), she wondered exactly what her mother looked like, exactly where she lived. 

            It was when she realized she was forgetting these things that she decided she had to go back. She had saved the boys from the pirates. It was time for her to grow up, just like Wendy had, and just like Jane and grandmother Margaret. 

            She hadn't seen grandmother Margaret in so long. Oh the stories she would tell her. Of course, she hadn't been home long enough for her mother to acquaint her with the news of Margaret's death. She still expected to find the old, joyous, white-haired lady relocated to some cozy cottage outside of town, where the rents were cheaper and the views nicer. 

            Or was her hair still only gray?

            Katie couldn't remember. She had to get back. There had never been any doubt in her mind that she would be going back, and it was quite time. She told Peter of her resolution. 

            This time the goodbye passed without such pomp and confusion as the last time. The lost boys looked disappointed but ready to accept that she would leave, as they all had vaguely known that she, just like every other mother they had had (surely they had had mothers before? And would again?) was merely a flighty thing, leaving all too soon. Peter merely nodded grimly and called to Zan to lead the way. Katie, a tear rolling down her cheek, walked to the door.

            "You'll remember to come for the next spring cleaning time, won't you?" she asked.

            Peter nodded. "Of course I will."

            Katie thought this not very reassuring, as surely he had said this to all the other girls, but she accepted it. Zan flitted about her head for a second, and then she flew away, off to the mainland.

            It wasn't hard going, she had gotten better at flying in her time spent in the Never Land, and she was determined not to lose any more time getting back to her family. She was sure the window would stand open; hadn't someone remembered to open the window for every other little girl?

            She flew through warm days and cold nights, her duffle bag now providing a warm skin to protect against the cold, now chafing at her neck as she flew along. She flew without stopping for an adventure or even touching the shark's fins in the water beneath her. She flew with one thought occupying her mind: "What was mother like?" She couldn't answer the question. It was quite time to be getting home.

            Shall we fly ahead to see that very family Katie was so rapidly flying towards? We wouldn't find them at home. Katie's parents were enjoying a night on the town, with family friends. We could have whispered into their ears; "Your eldest is returning", we could have given away the surprise, but it would have done nothing. Katie's mother had long since given up hope that her daughter was anything but dead; her mind could not cope with the idea of her daughter being in the Never Land. Katie's father, a not-so-admirable man, might have already forgotten entirely that he ever had another daughter.

            They had locked the door, barred the windows, and only one stood open – the window to Sue's room. 

            Sue, herself, was out with a friend, and quite happy to say she was an only child. Her mother, having forgotten her mourning at Katie's disappearance, had retained the fierce insistence that she would not lose her other daughter – she would not do anything to alienate Sue. And Sue reveled in it. Her room was a collage of pink and orange at the moment, but that could change with her very whim. And she loved it. Sue hadn't forgotten about her sister, she thanked Katie for her own material gains every night with her evening prayers, but remembered her in the jealous, rueful way of someone not sure that she got the better deal, but ready to make everyone else jealous. 

            Katie was expecting a warm welcome, would she get just the one she deserves, for leaving her family?

            Finally she reached London and found her house, her window. She flew up to it, slightly open. She pulled at it and fell inside. Someone had left it open for her. She smiled. It was quite late, her family must have been asleep, and they had left her room for her to return to. She smiled and flicked on the light switch.

             She gasped. The room – it had been painted, redecorated in oranges and pinks and flowers and sunshine, the testament to a girl quite different from Katie. Katie pulled open the drawers to find not her things but what must be her sister's. She froze in place, standing in front of a heart-shaped makeup table, decorated with pictures of cheerleader-friends and faces covered in glaring makeup. On the corner was a picture of Sue with her mother. Katie's mother. 

            So that was what mother looked like. She was older than Katie imagined. Or, perhaps that was to be expected, Katie had been away for so long a time. She held the photograph up, examining it for the traces of mourning, the signs that her mother was waiting for her. She saw none. 

            There were footsteps outside, knocking up the stairs, and a giggling that Katie recognized with a fell terror. Something knocked against the closed door. Katie backed towards the window, feeling a burglar in her own house, seeing the dirt she had tracked in and realizing with a guilty feeling that she should have used the door, probably. But it was her room – her house, why shouldn't she be in here?

            The door quickly opened and Sue stepped in. Her makeup was fading and her hair mussed. She looked a wreck. "Just a minute," she called to someone – this late at night? – outside, and then looked around her room.

            Her eyes skipped to the dirt on the floor and she frowned. When they reached Katie she scowled. She approached her sister and said in a voice that no one else could hear, "Get out of my room."

            Katie, not knowing what else to say, answered "It's my room."

            "It was your room. You're not needed any more. Get out of my room."

            There was a sound outside, and Sue pushed Katie out the window. Katie still had the photograph in her hand. Sue saw it, and smiled. "You can have that one – I can get another."

            She shut the window, and locked it, never breaking eye-contact with her sister. Katie floated, confused. The door opened behind Sue, just as she pulled the blinds closed to hide her sister. Katie caught the outline of a boy.

            She heard a muffled conversation. She was frozen with shock – this couldn't be. Where was her mother? She looked down at the picture, and slowly sank to the ground.

            She vaguely knew this couldn't be happening to her. Something in the back of her mind forbade it. Surely her mother would be sitting awake, waiting for her eldest daughter to return. Surely her mother hadn't forgotten about Katie. But the window was locked, the lights out, and her mother's car not in the driveway where it was wont to be. Katie slowed to a halt in the air. The lights in her sister's – her – room dimmed and went out. Zan flew about Katie's head.

            Katie still couldn't understand the fairy language, but this much was clear; Zan thought that, given she could not get home, Katie should return to the Never Land. Katie slowly nodded and turned back around, wondering how exactly she would make her way across the ocean this time. Sighing, she tucked the photograph in her duffle and flew off into the night. 

            She told herself she was going home, and her heart hardened in her chest. 

            It was many days before she reached the island, many nights before she could sleep for more than a few instants rest on the back of a strong wind. There were many nights when she would cry to see the stars so silently watching everything, so many nights when she felt she was just another star – banished from her world because of her sister's jealousy. Not once did she see what she had done to cause it, only her sister's vindictive jealousy did she ever acknowledge. And she cried, wailed into the night, scaring the very sharks that once she had pestered in her games of tag. Zan was a constant companion, steadfastly leading the way back to the island, trying to comfort Katie in her beautiful bell-like voice. But still Katie sobbed at her misery. She had lost her mother.

            She found the Never Land after what seemed like too long of a flight, and found that she could  no longer summon the energy even to fly into the little house in the trees. She slept, that night, at the base of the tree, hoping Zan would do  more to protect her than most fairies could be expected to do. 

            Zan, seeing Katie collapse at the base of the tree, continued her tired flight up to the house, to find Peter and the boys. They were still awake – the sun was barely setting. Her return brought all their attention. "Did she seem happy, Zan?" asked Peter.

            Zan rang that no, she didn't in the slightest.

            Peter looked sorrowful. "Then why didn't she stay?" he asked.

            Zan jingled lightly that perhaps Peter should check at the base of the tree, because flying for this many days and nights could tire anyone out, and Peter should know that.

            Peter jumped up and looked down, out of the door. He saw Katie, curled up beneath the tree, and laughed. "You brought her back!" he crowed, to Zan, but she only solemnly denied it and said it was for Katie to tell the story, when and how she chose to.

            The boys clambered out to see their mother, asleep on the ground, and realized that they would have to get her up to the house somehow. They all grabbed a limb and began to pull, but Peter signed for them to stop. After all, that was no way to treat a lady. 

            The problem was, no one knew just what to do with the sleeping Katie. Finally, Beetle spoke up. "Can't she just be a lost boy too?" he asked.

            Peter thought this over in his head. If she was here to stay, as Zan suggested, she couldn't be a mother – those left. Perhaps she could be a lost boy, or a lost girl really. "Well," said Peter, "I guess we could have a lost girl."

            "But she'll still be our mother, right, Peter?" asked one of the other boys.

            Peter nodded. "Of course she'll still be our mother." He picked her up off the ground. "But since she's a lost girl, we can lift her into the house, instead of bringing the house down to her." The lost boys laughed and Peter carried Katie up into the house in the trees.

            When Katie woke up, she was in her hammock, none the worse for her time beneath the tree. She smiled. Maybe this was her home. She carefully took out the picture of her mother and Sue, and hung it on the wall next to her hammock. The lost boys were already awake, and Dows came up behind her. 

            "What's that?" he asked.

            "It's my mother," she responded.

            "Oh, so that's what a mother looks like. I remember now. My mother looked very like that." He looked around, and shouted out, "Beetle! Come look! It's a mother!"

            Beetle stumbled over and looked in the picture, "It looks like my mother, Dows. It looks like our mother too." He pointed at Katie. "They have the same eyes I think."

            Katie smiled a little, as the rest of the boys tumbled over to look at the photo of her mother and comment on how mother-like she looked. Peter shouted for the boys to quiet down, and soon they were off swimming in the lagoon. 

            Soon Beetle learned how to build a boat, and bid all the boys good bye to what he thought would be bigger and better things, following the advice he had given John himself; that to stay in the Never Land was to never grow, to never make anything of yourself. And he took Dows with him. The two smiled and shouted as they left the shore, not quite men, but very soon to be grown up. They would never land on those shores again.

            The new lost boys were just as spirited as before, although there were fewer of them, and all in all, they had a rollicking good time. 

            Eventually, Katie's clothes began to wear out, and Peter allowed that, since she was a mother and not a lost boy, she could patch them up with skeleton leaves. She came to look very much like him, rather than like any of the boys. 

            The photo on her wall grew more tattered by the day, and she could barely remember what it was called anymore, only that the woman was her mother. She held to that with startling defiance of the rules – she was the mother, how could she have had one herself? But she pointed to the wall and said, "That is my mother," and they all believed her.

            Eventually, her hair grew so tangled that she had to cut it, roughly, with one of the knives they had stolen from the pirates or the indians – who knew which group – and she came to look very much like one of the boys indeed. She still would sit every night and patch clothing, she still would make pockets for every new boy, she still would fashion their meals when Peter deigned that they would have a real meal – and not just make believe dinner – but she came to be more and more like one of them each day. 

            She and Peter would race around the lagoon every so often, and half the time she won, and half the time Peter won, and when Peter lost he said it was because he was being honorable and letting the lady win, but when Katie lost Peter crowed and laughed at his greatness, and he believed everything he said for he really was the same Peter.

            And Katie realized something along the way – the truth about mothers was that they were toads. She vowed never to be such a toad to her own children, the lost boys. 

            Peter didn't go looking for mothers any more, because they had in Katie all the stories and pockets and happy listeners that they could possibly need, but every so often he and Katie flew back to London to hear more stories to tell the boys. None of their stories were about mothers and fathers or marriage and having families. 

            Every so often, Katie would tell Peter's own story, and when the boys wanted to hear what happened to Wendy and those boys after they killed the pirates, Katie would dutifully tell of that mother's dutiful heart and that mother's everlasting love. But she would always follow it with her own story, as a warning to the children – watch out for mothers. Mothers forget.

            And, true to form, Katie was slowly forgetting. She didn't remember much of her vocabulary any more, she certainly didn't remember her algebra or her biology, and she could only make her letters with startling difficulty. But it hardly mattered; she had too many adventures to worry about the state of her penmanship.  

            And then the dreams began. Horrible, wracking dreams where she would fly to her window to find it locked, Sue inside laughing at her from behind the curtains, her mother and father staring straight at her but not seeing her, horrible dreams where she remembered needing a mother and realized that she was only a child, just like the rest of them. She would see her friends slowly forgetting her – saying she died, of unknown causes, saying she fell out of a window, forgetting to say she existed.

            No one would comfort her in her dreams. She had no mother.

            Every morning she would wake up to find the picture of her mother, and remind herself: "Yes, I had a mother. This was my mother," a valediction. But in the past tense – she was forgetting, just like every mother does.

            Between the beasts and the redskins, the lost boys were killed off almost as quickly as they trickled in, and there were never more than six or less than two, but still Katie had her hands full with so excitable a group of boys. Not a single one was a girl – for girls are too smart to fall out of their prams. 

            The next time pirates landed on the island, everyone had forgotten about Smee and their great adventure, and so it was novel once again, and if the boys lived a little more fearfully, they also lived a little more eagerly, for who knew when another adventure would beset them.

            Zan had passed away long ago, for fairies don't live very long in human terms, and had been replaced with several others, none quite the same as she was. But Peter didn't remember Zan at all, and Katie remembered her only to tell the story of the pirate Smee, just as she told every other story – calmly, as a fairy tale.

            And every morning, she would wake up and see the picture of her mother and say, "That was my mother."

            And eventually, no one knew if she was talking about the person or the picture, not even herself.

Author's note: Well, that's it. Hope you liked it. I've finally finished one of my stories up here, which is a great accomplishment I assure you. Maybe now I can start one of the other ideas I have, but maybe it would be better to get to work on one of the other stories and finish that instead. Either way. Signing out.


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